n 


ST.    lYES 


Zbc  a&venturea  of  a  fvcnch  prieoner 
in  jeuQlanJ) 


BY 

ROBERT    LOUIS    STEVENSON 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1897 


S.  S.  McCLURE  &  CO. 

Copyright,  1897,  by 
CflARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  ilRBCTOny 

MUNTINC  AND   BOOKBINDINO  C«MPANr 

NEW  YORK 


pf^^ 


/^1  "^ 


EDITORIAL   NOTE 

The  following  tale  was  taken  down  from  Mr.  Stevenson's  dicta- 
tion by  his  step-daughter  and  amanuensis,  Mrs.  Strong,  at  intervals 
between  January,  1893,  and  October,  1894  (see  Vailima  Letters^  pp. 
242-2-iG,  299,  324,  334  and  350).  About  six  weeks  before  his  death  he 
laid  the  story  as'ide  to  take  up  Weir  of  Hermiston.  The  thirty  chapters 
of  St.  Ives  which  he  had  written  (the  last  few  of  them  apparently  un- 
revised)  brought  the  tale  within  sight  of  its  conclusion,  and  the  in- 
tended course  of  the  remainder  was  known  in  outline  to  Mrs.  Strong. 
Tor  the  benefit  of  those  readers  who  do  not  like  a  story  to  be  left 
unfinished,  the  delicate  task  of  supplying  the  missing  chapters  has 
been  intrusted  to  Mr.  Quiller-Couch,  whose  work  begins  at  Chapter 
XXXI. 

[S,  C] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTKR 

I. 

II. 

III. 


IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VIT. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 


A  Tale  of  a  Lion  Rampant, 

A  Tale  of  a  Pair  of  Scissors,  . 

Major     Chevenix     Copies     Into     the     Story, 

GoGUELAT  Goes  Out,    .... 
St.  Ives  Gets  a  Bundle  of  Bank  Notes, 
St.  Ives  is  Shown  a  House, 
The  Escape,  ....... 

Swanston  Cottage, 

The  IIen-house,    ...... 

Three  is  Company,  and  Four  None,  . 

The  Drovers, 

The  Great  North  Road,      .... 

I      Follow     a     Covered      Cart     Nearly     to 

Destination, ' 

I  Meet  Two  of  My  Countrymen, 

Travels  of  the  Covered  Cart, 

The  Adventure  of  the  Attorney's  Clerk, 

The  Home-coming  of  Mr.  Rowley's  Viscount 

The  Despatch-box, 


VI  CONTENTS 

CHAPTBB  PAGE 

XVIII.  Mr.  Romaine  CALLi  Me  Names,       .        .         .         .187 

XIX.  The  Devil  and  All  at  Amersham  Place,      .         .     198 

XX.  After  the  Storm,     .......     210 

XXI.  I  Become  the  Owner  of  a  Claret  coloured  Chaise,  221 

XXII.  Character  and   Acquirements   of  Mr.    Rowley,.     231 

XXIII.  The  Adventure  of  the  Runaway  Couple,     .         .     241 

XXIV.  The  Inn-keeper  of  Kirkby-Lonsdale,    .         .         .     254 
XXV.  I  Meet  a  Cheerful  Extravagant,           .         .         .263 

XXVI.  The  Cottage  at  Night,    .         .         .         .         .         .271 

XXVII,     The  Sabbath  Day, 282 

XXVIII.  Events  of  M6nday  :   The  Lawyer's  Party,  .         .     294 

XXIX.  Events  of  Tuesday  :   The  Toils  Closing,      .         .310 

XXX.  Events     of    Wednesday;      The     University    of 

Cramond,       ........     324 

XXXI.  Events  of  Thursday:    The  Assembly   Ball,         .     337 

XXXII.  Events  of  Friday  Morning  :  The  Cutting  of  the 

Gordian  Knot,      .......     '665 


XXXIII.  "  The  Incomplete  Aeronauts," 

XXXIV.  "  Captain  Colenso,"  .        .         .         . 
XXXV.  In  Paris — Alain  Plays  His  Last  Card, 

XXXVI.  I  GO  TO  CLAm  Flora,       .         .        .        - 


3()9 
390 
410 
427 


ST.    IVES 


ST.    IVES 

CHAPTER  I 

A   TALE   OF   A    LIOI^   RAMPAiq^T 

It  was  in  the  month  of  May  1813  that  I  was  so  unlucky 
as  to  fall  at  last  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  My  knowl- 
edge of  the  English  language  had  marked  me  out  for  a 
certain  employment.  Though  I  cannot  conceive  a  soldier 
refusing  to  incur  the  risk,  yet  to  be  hanged  for  a  spy  is  a 
disgusting  business  ;  and  I  was  relieved  to  be  held  a  pris- 
oner of  war.  Into  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  standing  in 
the  midst  of  that  city  on  the  summit  of  an  extraordinary 
rock,  I  was  cast  with  several  hundred  fellow-suiferers,  all 
privates  like  myself,  and  the  more  part  of  them,  by  an  acci- 
dent, very  ignorant,  plain  fellows.  My  English,  which 
had  brought  me  into  that  scrape,  now  helped  me  very 
materially  to  bear  it.  I  had  a  thousand  advantages.  I 
was  often  called  to  play  the  part  of  an  interpreter,  whether 
of  orders  or  complaints,  and  thus  brought  in  relations, 
sometimes  of  mirth,  sometimes  almost  of  friendship,  with 
the  officers  in  charge.  A  young  lieutenant  singled  me  out 
to  be  his  adversary  at  chess,  a  game  in  which  I  was  ex- 
tremely proficient,  and  would  reward  me  for  my  gambits 
with  excellent  cigars.  The  major  of  the  battalion  took 
lessons  of  French  from  me  while  at  breakfast,  and  was 
sometimes    so  obliging  ;;s  to   have  me    join   him  at  the 

1 


't'  '  ST.   IVES 

meal.  Chevenfx  was  his  name.  He  was  stiff  as  a  drum- 
major  and  selfish  as  an  Englishman,  but  a  fairly  conscien- 
tious pupil  and  a  fairly  upright  man.  Little  did  I  sup- 
pose that  his  ramrod  body  and  frozen  face  would,  in  the 
end,  step  in  between  me  and  all  my  dearest  wishes  ;  that 
upon  this  precise,  regular,  icy  soldier-man  my  fortunes 
should  so  nearly  shipwreck  !  I  never  liked,  but  yet  I 
trusted  him  ;  and  though  it  may  seem  but  a  trifle,  I  found 
his  snuff-box  with  the  bean  in  it  come  very  welcome. 

For  it  is  strange  how  grown  men  and  seasoned  soldiers 
can  go  back  in  life ;  so  that  after  but  a  little  while  in 
prison,  which  is  after  all  the  next  thing  to  being  in  the 
nursery,  they  grow  absorbed  in  the  most  pitiful,  childish 
interests,  and  a  sugar  biscuit  or  a  pinch  of  snuff  become 
things  to  follow  after  and  scheme  for  ! 

We  made  but  a  poor  show  of  prisoners.  The  officers  had 
been  all  offered  their  parole,  and  had  taken  it.  They 
lived  mostly  in  suburbs  of  the  city,  lodging  with  modest 
families,  and  enjoyed  their  freedom  and  supported  the 
almost  continual  evil  tidings  of  the  Emperor  as  best  they 
might.  It  chanced  I  was  the  only  gentleman  among  the 
privates  who  remained.  A  great  part  were  ignorant  Ital- 
ians, of  a  regiment  that  had  suffered  heavily  in  Catalonia. 
The  rest  were  mere  diggers  of  the  soil,  treaders  of  grapes  or 
hewers  of  wood,  who  had  been  suddenly  and  violently 
preferred  to  the  glorious  state  of  soldiers.  We  had  but  the 
one  interest  in  common  :  each  of  us  who  had  any  skill 
with  his  fingers  passed  the  hours  of  his  captivity  in  the 
making  of  little  toys  and  articles  of  Paris  ;  and  the  prison 
was  daily  visited  at  certain  hours  by  a  concourse  of  people 
of  the  country,  come  to  exult  over  our  distress,  or — it  is 
more  tolerant  to  suppose — their  own  vicarious  triumph. 
Some  moved  among  us  with  a  decency  of  shame  or  sym- 
pathy.    Others  were  the  most  offensive  personages  in  the 


A  TALE   OF  A   LION   RAMPANT  S 

world,  gaped  at  ns  as  if  we  had  been  baboons,  sought  to 
evangelise  us  to  their  rustic,  northern  religion,  as  though 
we  had  been  savages,  or  tortured  us  with  intelligence  of 
disasters  to  the  arms  of  France.  Good,  bad  and  indiffer- 
ent, there  was  one  alleviation  to  the  annoyance  of  these 
visitors  ;  for  it  was  the  practice  of  almost  all  to  purchase 
some  specimen  of  our  rude  handiwork.  This  led,  amongst 
the  prisoners,  to  a  strong  spirit  of  competition.  Some 
were  neat  of  hand,  and  (the  genius  of  the  French  being 
always  distinguished)  could  place  upon  sale  little  miracles 
of  dexterity  and  taste.  Some  had  a  more  engaging  ap- 
pearance ;  fine  features  were  found  to  do  as  well  as  fine 
merchandise,  and  an  air  of  youth  in  particular  (as  it  ap- 
pealed to  the  sentiment  of  pity  in  our  visitors)  to  be  a 
source  of  profit.  Others  again  enjoyed  some  acquaintance 
with  the  language,  and  were  able  to  recommend  the  more 
agreeably  to  purchasers  such  trifles  as  they  had  to  sell.  To 
the  first  of  these  advantages  I  could  lay  no  claim,  for  my 
fingers  were  all  thumbs.  Some  at  least  of  the  others  I 
possessed  ;  and  finding  much  entertainment  in  our  com- 
merce, I  did  not  suffer  my  advantages  to  rust.  I  have 
never  despised  the  social  arts,  in  which  it  is  a  national 
boast  that  every  Frenchman  should  excel.  For  the  ap- 
proach of  particular  sorts  of  visitors,  I  had  a  particular 
manner  of  address  and  even  of  appearance,  which  I  could 
readily  assume  and  change  on  the  occasion  rising.  I  never 
lost  an  opportunity  to  flatter  either  the  person  of  my  vis- 
itor, if  it  should  be  a  lady,  or,  if  it  should  be  a  man,  the 
greatness  of  his  country  in  war.  And  in  case  my  compli- 
ments should  miss  their  aim,  I  was  always  ready  to  cover 
my  retreat  with  some  agreeable  pleasantry,  which  would 
often  earn  me  the  name  of  an  ''  oddity  "  or  a  "  droll  fel- 
low.'' In  this  way,  although  I  was  so  left-handed  a  toy- 
maker,  I  made  out  to  be  rather  a  successful  merchant ;  and 


4  ST.   IVES 

found  means  to  procure  luan}^  little  delicacies  and  allevia- 
tions, such  as  children  or  prisoners  desire. 

I  am  scarcely  drawing  the  portrait  of  a  very  melancholy 
man.  It  is  not  indeed  my  character ;  and  I  had,  in  a 
comparison  with  my  comrades,  many  reasons  for  content. 
In  the  first  place,  I  had  no  family  :  I  was  an  orphan  and  a 
bachelor  ;  neither  wife  nor  child  awaited  me  in  France.  In 
the  second,  I  had  never  wholly  forgot  the  emotions  with 
which  I  first  found  myself  a  prisoner  ;  and  although  a 
military  prison  be  not  altogether  a  garden  of  delights,  it  is 
still  preferable  to  a  gallows.  In  the  third,  I  am  almost 
ashamed  to  say  it,  but  I  found  a  certain  pleasure  in  our 
place  of  residence  :  being  an  obsolete  and  really  mediaeval 
fortress,  high  placed  and  commanding  extraordinary  pros- 
pects not  only  over  sea,  mouatain  and  champaign,  but  act- 
ually over  the  thoroughfares  of  a  capital  city,  which  we 
could  see  blackened  by  day  with  the  moving  crowd  of  the 
inhabitants,  and  at  night  shining  with  lamps.  And  lastly, 
although  I  was  not  insensible  to  the  restraints  of  prison  or 
the  scantiness  of  our  rations,  I  remembered  I  had  some- 
times eaten  quite  as  ill  in  Spain,  and  had  to  mount  guard 
and  march  perhaps  a  dozen  leagues  into  the  bargain.  The 
first  of  my  troubles,  indeed,  was  the  costume  v;e  were 
obliged  to  wear.  There  is  a  horrible  practice  in  England 
to  trick  out  in  ridiculous  uniforms,  and  as  it  were  to  brand 
in  mass,  not  only  convicts  but  military  prisoners  and  even 
the  children  in  charity  schools.  I  think  some  malig- 
nant genius  had  found  his  masterpiece  of  irony  in  the 
dress  which  we  were  condemned  to  wear  :  jacket,  waist- 
coat and  trousers  of  a  sulphur  or  mustard  yellow,  and  a 
shirt  of  blue-and- white  striped  cotton.  It  was  conspicuous, 
it  was  cheap,  it  pointed  us  out  to  laughter — we,  who  we're 
old  soldiers,  used  to  arms,  and  some  of  us  showing  noble 
scars — like  a  set  of  luo^ubrious  zanies  at  a  fair.     The  old 


A   TALE   OF    A   LION   RAMPANT  5 

name  of  that  rock  on  which  our  prison  stood  was  (I  have 
heard  since  then)  the  Painted  Hill.  Well,  now  it  was  all 
painted  a  bright  yellow  with  our  costumes  ;  and  the  dress 
of  the  soldiers  who  guarded  us  being  of  course  the  essential 
British  red  rag,  we  made  w^^  together  the  elements  of  a 
lively  picture  of  hell.  I  have  again  and  again  looked  round 
upon  my  fellow-prisoners,  and  felt  my  anger  rise,  and 
choked  upon  tears,  to  behold  them  thus  parodied.  The 
more  part,  as  I  have  said,  were  peasants,  somewhat  bettered 
perhaps  by  the  drill-sergeant,  but  for  all  that  ungainly, 
loutish  fellows,  with  no  more  than  a  mere  barrack- room 
smartness  of  address  :  indeed,  you  could  have  seen  our 
army  nowhere  more  discreditably  represented  than  in  this 
Castle  of  Edinburgh.  And  I  used  to  see  myself  in  fancy, 
and  blush.  It  seemed  that  my  more  elegant  carriage  would 
but  point  the  insult  of  the  travesty.  And  I  remembered 
the  days  when  I  wore  the  coarse  but  honourable  coat  of  a 
soldier  ;  and  remembered  farther  back  how  many  of  the 
noble,  the  fair  and  the  gracious  had  taken  a  delight  to 
tend  my  childhood.  .  .  .  But  I  must  not  recall  these 
tender  and  sorrowful  memories  twice  ;  their  place  is  farther 
on,  and  I  am  now  upon  another  business.  The  perfidy  of 
the  Britannic  Government  stood  nowhere  more  openly  con- 
fessed than  in  one  particular  of  our  discipline  :  that  we 
were  shaved  twice  in  the  week.  To  a  man  who  has  loved  all 
his  life  to  be  fresh  shaven,  can  a  more  irritating  indignity 
be  devised  ?  Monday  and  Thursday  were  the  days.  Take 
the  Thursday,  and  conceive  the  picture  I  must  present  by 
Sunday  evening  !  And  Saturday,  which  was  almost  as 
bad,  was  the  great  day  for  visitors. 

Those  who  came  to  our  market  were  of  all  qualities, 
men  and  women,  the  lean  and  the  stout,  the  plain  and  the 
fairly  pretty.  Sure,  if  people  at  all  understood  the  power 
of  beauty,  there  would  be  no  prayers  addressed  except  to 


6  ST.   IVES 

Venus  ;  and  the  mere  privilege  of  beholding  a  comely 
woman  is  worth  paying  for.  Our  visitors,  upon  the  whole, 
were  not  much  to  boast  of ;  and  yet,  sitting  in  a  corner 
and  very  much  ashamed  of  myself  and  my  absurd  appear- 
ance, I  have  again  and  again  tasted  the  finest,  the  rarest 
and  the  most  ethereal  pleasures  in  a  glance  of  an  eye  that 
I  should  never  see  again — and  never  wanted  to.  The 
flower  of  the  hedgerow  and  the  star  in  heaven  satisfy 
and  delight  us  :  how  mtich  more  the  look  of  that  exquisite 
being  who  was  created  to  bear  and  rear,  to  madden  and  re- 
joice, mankind  ! 

There  was  one  young  lady  in  particular,  about  eighteen 
or  nineteen,  tall,  of  a  gallant  carriage,  and  with  a  profu- 
sion of  hair  in  which  the  sun  found  threads  of  gold.  As 
soon  as  she  came  in  the  courtyard  (and  she  was  a  rather 
frequent  visitor)  it  seemed  I  was  aware  of  it.  She  had  an 
air  of  angelic  candour,  yet  of  a  high  spirit ;  she  stepped 
like  a  Diana,  every  movement  was  noble  and  free.  One 
day  there  was  a  strong  east  wind  ;  the  banner  was  straining 
at  the  flagstaff  ;  below  us  the  smoke  of  the  city  chimneys 
blew  hither  and  thither  in  a  thousand  crazy  variations  ;  and 
away  out  on  the  Forth  we  could  see  the  ships  lying  down 
to  it  and  scudding.  I  was  thinking  what  a  vile  day  it  was, 
when  she  appeared.  Her  hair  blew  in  the  wind  with 
changes  of  colour  ;  her  garments  moulded  her  with  the 
accuracy  of  sculpture  ;  the  ends  of  her  shawl  fluttered 
about  her  ear  and  were  caught  in  again  with  an  inimitable 
deftness.  You  have  seen  a  pool  on  a  gusty  day,  how  it 
suddenly  sparkles  and  flashes  like  a  thing  alive  ?  So  this 
lady's  face  had  become  animated  and  coloured  ;  and  as  I 
saw  her  standing,  somewhat  inclined,  her  lips  parted,  a 
divine  trouble  in  her  eyes,  I  could  have  clapped  my  hands 
in  applause,  and  was  ready  to  acclaim  her  a  genuine 
daughter  of  the  winds.     What  put  it  in  my  head,  I  know 


A   TALE   OF   A   LION   EAMPANT  7 

not :  perhaps  because  it  was  a  Thursday  and  I  was  new 
from  the  razor;  but  I  determined  to  engage  her  atten- 
tion no  later  than  that  day.  She  was  approaching  that 
part  of  the  court  in  which  I  sat  with  my  merchandise, 
when  I  observed  her  handkerchief  to  escape  from  her 
hands  and  fall  to  the  ground  ;  the  next  moment,  the 
wind  had  taken  it  up  and  carried  it  within  my  reach.  I 
was  on  foot  at  once :  I  had  forgot  my  mustard-coloured 
clothes,  I  had  forgot  the  private  soldier  and  his  salute. 
Bowing  deeply,  I  offered  her  the  slip  of  cambric. 

"Madam,"  said  I,  "your  handkerchief.  The  wind 
brought  it  me.*' 

I  met  her  eyes  fully. 

"I  thank  you,  sir,"  said  she. 

"  The  wind  brought  it  me,"  I  repeated.  "  May  I  not 
take  it  for  an  omen  ?  You  have  an  English  proverb,  '  It's 
an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good.'' " 

"  Well,"  she  said,  with  a  smile,  "  ^  One  good  turn  de- 
serves another.'     I  will  see  what  you  have." 

She  followed  me  to  where  my  wares  were  spread  out  un- 
der lee  of  a  piece  of  cannon. 

"Alas,  mademoiselle  !"  said  I,  "I  am  no  very  perfect 
craftsman.  This  is  supposed  to  be  a  house,  and  you  see  the 
chimneys  are  awry.  You  may  call  this  a  box  if  you  are 
very  indulgent ;  but  see  where  my  tool  slipped  !  Yes, 
I  am  afraid  you  may  go  from  one  to  another,  and  find  a 
flaw  in  everything.  Failures  for  Sale  should  be  on  my 
signboard.  I  do  not  keep  a  shop ;  I  keep  a  Humorous 
Museum."  I  cast  a  smiling  glance  about  my  display  and 
then  at  her,  and  instantly  became  grave.  "Strange,  is  it 
not,"'I  added,  "that  a  grown  man  and  a  soldier  should  be 
engaged  upon  such  trash,  and  a  sad  heart  produce  any- 
thing so  funny  to  look  at  ?  " 

An  unpleasant  voice  summoned  her  at  this  moment  by 


8  ST.    IVES 

the  name  of  Flora,  and  she  made  a  hasty  purchase  and  re- 
joined her  party. 

A  few  days  after  she  came  again.  But  I  must  first  tell 
you  how  she  came  to  be  so  frequent.  Her  aunt  was  one  of 
those  terrible  British  old  maids,  of  which  the  world  has 
heard  much  ;  and  having  nothing  whatever  to  do  and  a 
word  or  two  of  French,  she  had  taken  what  she  called  an 
interest  in  the  French  prisoners,  A  big,  bustling,  bold 
old  lady,  she  flounced  about  our  market-place  with  insuf- 
ferable airs  of  patronage  and  condescension.  She  bought, 
indeed,  with  liberality,  but  her  manner  of  studying  us 
tlirough  a  quizzing  glass,  and  playing  cicerone  to  her  fol- 
lowers, acquitted  us  of  any  gratitude.  She  had  a  tail  be- 
hind her  of  heavy,  obsequious  old  gentlemen,  or  dull, 
giggling  misses,  to  whom  she  appeared  to  be  an  oracle. 
"This  one  can  really  carve  prettily  :  is  he  not  a  quiz  with 
liis  big  whiskers?^'  she  would  say.  ^^And  this  one," 
indicating  myself  with  her  gold  eye-glass,  ^'  is,  I  assure  you, 
quite  an  oddity."  The  oddity,  you  may  be  certain,  ground 
his  teeth.  She  had  a  way  of  standing  in  our  midst,  nod- 
ding around,  and  addressing  us  in  what  she  imagined  to  be 
French:  "  Bienney  homrnes !  pa  va  Menne?''  I  took  the 
freedom  to  reply  in  the  same  lingo  :  ^' Bienne,  feinrne  !  ga 
va  couci-couci  tout  cVmeme,  la  hourgeoise!  "  And  at  that, 
when  we  had  all  laughed  with  a  little  more  heartiness  than 
was  entirely  civil,  ^'  I  told  you  he  was  quite  an  oddity  ! " 
says  she  in  triumph.  Needless  to  say,  these  passages  were 
before  I  had  remarked  the  niece. 

The  aunt  came  on  the  day  in  question  with  a  following 
rather  more  than  usually  large,  which  she  manoeuvred 
to  and  fro  about  the  market  and  lectured  to  at  rather  more 
than  usual  length,  and  with  rather  less  than  her  accustomed 
tLict.  I  kept  my  eyes  down,  but  they  were  ever  fixed  in 
the  same  direction,  quite  in  vain.     The   aunt  came  and 


A   TALE   OF   A   LION   RAMPANT  9 

went,  and  pulled  us  out,  and  showed  ns  oif,  like  caged 
monkeys ;  but  the  niece  kept  herself  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  crowd  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  courtyard,  and 
departed  at  last  as  she  had  come,  without  a  sign.  Closely 
as  I  had  watched  her,  I  could  not  say  her  eyes  had  ever 
rested  on  me  for  an  instant ;  and  my  heart  was  overwhelmed 
with  bitterness  and  blackness.  I  tore  out  her  detested  im- 
age ;  I  felt  I  was  done  with  her  for  ever  ;  I  laughed  at  my- 
self savagely,  because  I  had  thought  to  please  ;  when  I  lay 
down  at  night,  sleep  forsook  me,  and  I  lay,  and  rolled,  and 
gloated  on  her  charms,  and  cursed  her  insensibility,  for  half 
the  night.  How  trivial  I  thought  her  !  and  how  trivial 
her  sex  !  A  man  might  be  an  angel  or  an  Apollo,  and  a 
mustard-coloured  coat  would  wholly  blind  them  to  his 
merits.  I  was  a  prisoner,  a  slave,  a  contemned  and  despic- 
able being,  the  butt  of  her  sniggering  countrymen.  I 
would  take  the  lesson  :  no  proud  daughter  of  my  foes 
should  have  the  chance  to  mock  at  me  again  ;  none  in  the 
future  should  have  the  chance  to  think  I  had  looked  at  her 
with  admiration.  You  cannot  imagine  any  one  of  a  more 
resolute  and  independent  spirit,  or  whose  bosom  was  more 
wholly  mailed  with  patriotic  arrogance,  than  I.  Before  I 
dropped  asleep,  I  had  remembered  all  the  infamies  of 
Britain,  and  debited  them  in  an  overwhelming  column  to 
Flora. 

The  next  day,  as  I  sat  in  my  place,  I  became  conscious 
there  was  some  one  standing  near  ;  and  behold,  it  was  her- 
self !  I  kept  my  seat,  at  first  in  the  confusion  of  my  mind, 
later  on  from  policy ;  and  she  stood,  and  leaned  a  little  over 
me,  as  in  pity.  She  was  very  still  and  timid  ;  her  voice 
was  low.  Did  I  suifer  in  my  captivity  ?  she  asked  me. 
Had  I  to  complain  of  any  hardship  ? 

*^  Mademoiselle,  I  have  not  learned  to  complain,"  said  I. 
'^  I  am  a  soldier  of  Napoleon." 


10  ST.    IVES 

She  sighed.  ^^At  least  you  must  regret  La  France" 
said  she,  aud  coloured  a  little  as  she  pronounced  the  words, 
which  she  did  with  a  pretty  strangeness  of  accent. 

'^  What  am  I  to  say  ? '"  I  replied.  ''  If  you  were  carried 
from  this  country,  for  which  you  seem  so  wholly  suited, 
where  the  very  rains  and  winds  seem  to  become  you  like 
ornaments,  would  you  regret,  do  you  think  ?  AVe  must 
surely  all  regret  !  the  son  to  his  mother,  the  man  to  his 
country  ;  these  are  native  feelings."' 

'^  You  have  a  mother  ?"  she  asked. 

''In  heaven,  mademoiselle,''  I  answered.  ''She,  and 
my  father  also,  went  by  the  same  road  to  heaven  as  so  many 
others  of  the  fair  and  brave  :  they  followed  their  queen 
upon  the  scaffold.  So,  you  see,  I  am  not  so  much  to  be 
pitied  in  my  prison,"  I  continued:  "there  are  none  to 
wait  for  me  ;  I  am  alone  in  the  world.  'Tis  a  different 
case,  for  instance,  with  yon  poor  fellow  in  the  cloth  cap. 
His  bed  is  next  to  mine,  and  in  the  night  I  hear  him  sob- 
bing to  himself.  He  has  a  tender  character,  full  of  tender 
and  pretty  sentiments  ;  and  in  the  dark  at  night,  and  some- 
times by  day  when  he  can  get  me  apart  with  him,  he  la- 
ments a  mother  and  a  sweetheart.  Do  you  know  what 
made  him  take  me  for  a  confidant  ?  " 

She  parted  her  lips  with  a  look,  but  did  not  speak.  The 
look  burned  all  through  me  with  a  sudden  vital  heat. 

"Because  I  had  once  seen,  in  marching  by,  the  belfry 
of  his  village  !  "  I  continued.  "  The  circumstance  is  quaint 
enough.  It  seems  to  bind  up  into  one  the  whole  bundle 
of  those  human  instincts  that  make  life  beautiful,  and 
people  and  places  dear — and  from  which  it  would  seem  I 
am  cut  off  !  " 

I  rested  my  chin  on  my  knee  and  looked  before  me  on 
the  ground.  I  had  been  talking  until  then  to  hold  her  ; 
but  I  was  now  not  sorry  she  should  go  :  an  impression  is  a 


A   TALE   OF   A   LION    RAMPANT  11 

thing  so  delicate  to  produce  and  so  easy  to  overthrow  ! 
Presently  she  seemed  to  make  an  effort. 

'^I  will  take  this  toy/^  she  said,  laid  a  five-and-sixpenny 
piece  in  my  hand,  and  was  gone  ere  I  could  thank  her. 

I  retired  to  a  place  apart  near  the  ramparts  and  behind 
a  gun.  The  beauty,  the  expression  of  her  eyes,  the  tear 
that  had  trembled  there,  the  compassion  in  her  voice,  and 
a  kind  of  wild  elegance  that  consecrated  the  freedom  of 
her  movements,  all  combined  to  enslave  my  imagination 
and  inflame  my  heart.  What  had  she  said  ?  Nothing  to 
signify ;  but  her  eyes  had  met  mine,  and  the  fire  they  had 
kindled  burned  inextinguishably  in  my  veins.  I  loved  her  ; 
and  I  did  not  fear  to  hope.  Twice  I  had  spoken  with  her ; 
and  in  both  interviews  I  had  been  well  inspired,  I  had  en- 
gaged her  sympathies,  I  had  found  words  that  she  must 
remember,  that  would  ring  in  her  ears  at  night  upon  her 
bed.  What  mattered  if  I  were  half  shaved  and  my  clothes 
a  caricature  ?  I  was  still  a  man,  and  I  had  drawn  my  im- 
age on  her  memory.  I  was  still  a  man,  and,  as  I  trembled 
to  realise,  she  was  still  a  woman.  Many  waters  cannot 
quench  love  ;  and  love,  which  is  the  law  of  the  world,  Avas 
on  my  side.  I  closed  my  eyes,  and  she  sprang  up  on  the 
background  of  the  darkness,  more  beautiful  than  in  life. 
^^  Ah  !"  thought  I,  ^^and  you  too,  my  dear,  you  too  must 
carry  away  with  you  a  picture,  that  you  are  still  to  behold 
again  and  still  to  embellish.  In  the  darkness  of  night,  in 
the  streets  by  day,  still  you  are  to  have  my  voice  and  face, 
whispering,  making  love  for  me,  encroaching  on  your  shy 
heart.  Shy  as  your  heart  is,  it  is  lodged  there — /  am 
lodged  there  ;  let  the  hours  do  their  office — let  time  con- 
tinue to  draw  me  ever  in  more  lively,  ever  in  more  insidious 
colours."  And  then  I  had  a  vision  of  myself,  and  burst  out 
laughing. 

A  likely  thing,  indeed,  that  a  beggar-man,  a  private  sol- 


12  ST.   IVES 

dier,  a  prisoner  in  a  yellow  travesty,  was  to  awake  the  in- 
terest of  this  fair  girl  !  I  would  not  despair  ;  but  I  saw 
the  game  must  be  played  fine  and  close.  It  must  be  my 
policy  to  hold  myself  before  her,  always  in  a  pathetic  or 
pleasing  attitude  ;  never  to  alarm  or  startle  her  ;  to  keep 
my  own  secret  locked  in  my  bosom  like  a  story  of  disgrace, 
and  let  hers  (if  she  could  be  induced  to  have  one),  grow  at 
its  own  rate  ;  to  move  just  so  fast,  and  not  by  a  hair's- 
breadth  any  faster,  than  the  inclination  of  her  heart.  I 
was  the  man,  and  yet  I  was  passive,  tied  by  the  foot  in 
prison.  I  could  not  go  to  her  ;  I  must  cast  a  spell  upon 
her  at  each  visit,  so  that  she  should  return  to  me  ;  and  this 
was  a  matter  of  nice  management.  I  had  done  it  the  last 
time — it  seemed  impossible  she  should  not  come  again  after 
our  interview  ;  and  for  the  next  I  had  speedily  ripened  a 
fresh  plan.  A  prisoner,  if  he  has  one  great  disability  for  a 
lover,  has  yet  one  considerable  advantage  :  there  is  nothing 
to  distract  him,  and  he  can  spend  all  his  hours  ripening 
his  love  and  preparing  its  manifestations.  I  had  been  then 
some  days  upon  a  piece  of  carving, — no  less  than  the  em- 
blem of  Scotland,  the  Lion  Ramj^ant.  This  I  proceeded 
to  finish  with  Avhat  skill  I  was  possessed  of ;  and  Avhen  at 
last  I  could  do  no  more  to  it  (and,  you  may  be  sure,  was 
already  regretting  I  had  done  so  much),  added  on  the  base 
the  following  dedication  : — 

A   LA  BELLE   FLORA 

LE   PRISONNIER   RECON"NAISAKT 

A.  D.  St.  Y.  d.  K. 

I  put  my  heart  into  the  carving  of  these  letters.  What 
was  done  with  so  much  ardour,  it  seemed  scarce  possible 
that  any  should  behold  with  indifference  ;  and  the  initials 
would  at  least  suggest  to  her  my  noble  birth.     I  thought 


i 


A   TALE   OF   A    LION    RAMPANT  IB 

it  better  to  suggest :  I  felt  that  mystery  was  my  stock-in- 
trade  ;  the  contrast  between  my  rank  and  manners,  be- 
tween my  speech  and  my  clothing,  and  the  fact  that  she 
could  only  think  of  me  by  a  combination  of  letters,  must 
all  tend  to  increase  her  interest  and  engage  her  heart. 

This  done,  there  was  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  wait  and 
to  hope.  And  there  is  nothing  further  from  my  character  : 
in  love  and  in  war,  I  am  all  for  the  forward  movement ; 
and  these  days  of  waiting  made  my  purgatory.  It  is  a  fact 
that  I  loved  her  a  great  deal  better  at  the  end  of  them,  for 
love  comes,  like  bread,  from  a  perpetual  rehandling.  And 
besides,  I  was  fallen  into  a  panic  of  fear.  How,  if  she 
came  no  more,  how  was  I  to  continue  to  endure  my  empty 
days  ?  how  was  I  to  fall  back  and  find  my  interest  in  the 
major's  lessons,  the  lieutenant's  chess,  in  a  twopenny  sale 
in  the  market,  or  a  halfpenny  addition  to  the  prison  fare  ? 

Days  went  by,  and  weeks  ;  I  had  not  the  courage  to  cal- 
culate, and  to-day  I  have  not  the  courage  to  remember  ; 
but  at  last  she  was  there.  At  last  I  saw  her  approach  me 
in  the  company  of  a  boy  about  her  own  age,  and  whom  I 
divined  at  once  to  be  her  brother. 

I  rose  and  bowed  in  silence. 

^'^This  is  my  brother,  Mr.  Ronald  Gilchrist,"  said  she. 
"  I  have  told  him  of  your  sufferings.  He  is  so  sorry  for 
you!"^ 

^'  It  is  more  than  I  have  the  right  to  ask,"  I  replied  ; 
^^but  among  gentlefolk  these  generous  sentiments  are  nat- 
ural. If  your  brother  and  I  were  to  meet  in  the  field,  we 
should  meet  like  tigers  ;  but  when  he  sees  me  here  dis- 
armed and  helpless,  he  forgets  his  animosity."  (At  which, 
as  I  had  ventured  to  expect,  this  beardless  champion 
coloured  to  the  ears  for  pleasure.)  '^  Ah,  my  dear  young 
lady,"  I  continued,  "  there  are  many  of  your  countrymen 
^languishing  in  my  country  even  as  I  do  here.     I  can  but 


14  ST.   lYES       ■ 

hope  there  is  found  some  French  lady  to  convey  to  each  of 
them  the  priceless  consolation  of  her  sympathy.  You  have 
given  me  alms  ;  and  more  than  alms — hope  ;  and  while 
you  were  absent  I  was  not  forgetful.  Suffer  me  to  be  able 
to  tell  myself  that  I  have  at  least  tried  to  make  a  return ; 
and  for  the  prisoner's  sake  deign  to  accept  this  trifle/' 

So  saying,  I  offered  her  my  lion,  which  she  took,  looked 
at  in  some  embarrassment,  and  then,  catching  sight  of  the 
dedication,  broke  out  with  a  cry. 

^'  Why,  how  did  you  know  my  name  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  When  names  are  so  appropriate,  they  should  be  easily 
guessed,"  said  I,  bowing.  ^'  But  indeed  there  was  no  magic 
in  the  matter.  A  lady  called  you  by  name  on  the  day  I 
found  your  handkerchief,  and  I  was  quick  to  remark  and 
cherish  it." 

^*^It  is  very,  very  beautiful,"  said  slie^  "and  I  shall  be 
always  proud  of  the  inscription.  Come,  Eonald,  we  must 
be  going."  She  bowed  to  me  as  a  lady  bows  to  her  equal, 
and  passed  on  (I  could  have  sworn)  •^vith  a  heightened 
colour. 

I- was  overjoyed  :  my  innocent  ruse  had  succeeded  ;  she 
had  taken  my  gift  without  a  hint  of  payment,  and  she 
would  scarce  sleep  in  peace  till  she  had  made  it  up  to  me. 
No  greenhorn  in  matters  of  the  heart,  I  was  besides  aware 
that  I  had  now  a  resident  ambassador  at  the  court  of  my 
lady.  The  lion  might  be  ill  chiselled  ;  it  was  mine.  My 
hands  had  made  and  held  it ;  my  knife — or,  to  speak  more 
by  the  mark,  my  rusty  nail — had  traced  those  letters  ;  and 
simple  as  the  words  were,  they  would  keep  repeating  to  her 
that  I  was  grateful  and  that  I  found  her  fair.  The  boy 
had  looked  like  a  gawky,  and  blushed  at  a  compliment ;  I 
could  see  besides  that  he  regarded  me  with  considerable 
suspicion  ;  yet  he  made  so  manly  a  figure  of  a  lad,  that  I 
could  not  withhold  from  him  my  sympathy.     And  as  for 


A   TALE   OF   A   LION   EAMPANT  15 

the  impulse  that  had  made  her  bring  and  introduce  him,  I 
could  not  sufficientl}^  admire  it.  It  seemed  to  me  finer 
than  wit,  and  more  tender  than  a  caress.  It  said  (plain  as 
language),  "  I  do  not  and  I  cannot  know  you.  Here  is 
my  brother — you  can  know  him  ;  this  is  the  way  to  me— 
follow  it/' 


CHAPTER    II 

A   TALE   OF   A   PAIR   OF    SCISSOES 

I  WAS  stiU  plunged  in  these  thoughts  when  the  beU  was 
runor  that  discharored  our  visitors  into  the  street.  Our  lit- 
tie  market  was  no  sooner  closed  than  we  were  summoned 
to  the  distribution  and  received  our  rations^  which  we  were 
then  allowed  to  eat  according  to  fancy  in  any  part  of  our 
quarters. 

I  have  said  the  conduct  of  some  of  our  visitors  was  un- 
bearably offensive  ;  it  was  possibly  more  so  than  they 
dreamed — as  the  sight-seers  at  a  menagerie  may  offend  in 
a  thousand  ways,  and  quite  without  meaning  it,  the  noble 
and  unfortunate  animals  behind  the  bars  ;  and  there  is  no 
doubt  but  some  of  my  compatriots  were  susceptible  beyond 
reason.  Some  of  these  old  whiskerandos,  originally  peas- 
ants, trained  since  boyhood  in  victorious  armies,  and  accus- 
tomed to  move  among  subject  and  trembling  populations, 
could  ill  brook  their  change  of  circumstance.  There  was 
one  man  of  the  name  of  Goguelat,  a  brute  of  the  first 
water,  who  had  enjoyed  no  touch  of  civilisation  beyond  the 
military  discipline,  and  had  risen  by  an  extreme  heroism 
of  bravery  to  a  grade  for  which  he  was  otherwise  unfitted 
—that  of  marechal  des  logis  in  the  22nd  of  the  line.  In 
so  far  as  a  brute  can  be  a  good  soldier,  he  was  a  good  sol- 
dier ;  the  cross  was  on  his  breast,  and  gallantly  earned ; 
but  in  all  things  outside  his  line  of  duty  the  man  was  no 
other  than  a  brawling,  bruising,  ignorant  pillar  of  low  pot- 

16 


A    TALE    OF    A    PAIR    OF    SCISSORS  17 

houses.  As  a  gentleman  by  birth  and  a  soholar  by  taste 
and  education.  I  was  the  type  of  all  that  he  least  under- 
s:ood  and  most  detested  :  and  the  mere  view  of  our  yisitors 
would  leave  him  daily  in  a  transport  of  annoyance,  which 
he  would  make  haste  to  wreak  on  the  nearest  "dctim.  and 
too  often  on  myself. 

It  was  so  now.  Our  rations  were  scarce  served  out,  and 
I  had  just  withdrawn  into  a  comer  of  the  yard,  when  I 
perceived  him  drawing  near.  He  wore  an  air  of  hateful 
mirth  ;  a  set  of  young  fools,  among  whom  he  passed  for  a 
wit,  followed  him  with  looks  of  expectation  :  and  I  saw  I 
was  about  to  be  the  object  of  some  of  his  insuSerable  pleas- 
antries. He  took  a  place  beside  me,  spread  out  his  rations, 
drank  to  me  derisively  from  his  measure  of  prison  beer,  and 
began.  What  he  said  it  would  be  impossible  to  print :  bu* 
his  admirers,  who  believed  their  wit  to  have  surpassed  him- 
self, actually  rolled  among  the  gravel.  For  my  pan,  I 
thought  at  first  I  should  have  died.  I  had  not  dreamed 
the  wretch  w;is  so  observant  ;  but  hate  sharpens  the  ears, 
and  he  had  counted  our  interviews  and  actuaDj  knew 
Flora  by  her  name.  Gradually  my  coolness  returned  to 
me.  accompanied  by  a  volume  of  living  anger  that  surprised 
myself. 

'  *  Are  you  nearly  done  ?  "  I  asked.  *  *  Because  if  yon  are. 
I  am  about  to  say  a  word  or  two  myself." 

-Oh,  fair  plav  !  "  said  he.  **  Tnm  about  I  The  Mar- 
quis of  Carabas  to  the  tribune." 

'•  Very  well,"  said  I.  ••  I  have  to  inform  you  that  I  am 
a  gentleman.  You  do  not  know  what  that  means,  hey  ? 
Well,  I  will  tell  you.  It  is  a  comical  sort  of  animal : 
springs  from  another  strange  set  of  creatures  they  call  an- 
cestors :  and  in  common  with  toads  and  other  vermin,  has 
a  thing  that  he  calls  feelings.  The  lion  is  a  gentleman  : 
he  will  not  touch  carrion.     I  am  a  gentleman,  and  I  can- 


18  ST.    IVES 

not  bear  to  soil  my  fingers  with  such  a  lump  of  dirt.  Sit 
still,  Philippe  Goguelat  I  sit  still  and  do  not  say  a  word,  or 
I  shall  know  you  are  a  coward  ;  the  eyes  of  our  guards 
are  upon  us.  Here  is  your  health  ! "  said  I,  and  pledged 
him  in  the  prison  beer.  "  You  have  chosen  to  speak  in  a 
certain  way  of  a  young  child,"  I  continued,  '^^wlio  might 
be  your  daughter,  and  who  was  giving  alms  to  me  and  some 
others  of  us  mendicants.  If  the  Emperor" — saluting-^*^' if 
my  Emperor  could  hear  you,  he  would  pluck  off  the  cross 
from  your  gross  body.  I  cannot  do  that  ;  I  cannot  take 
away  what  his  Majesty  has  given  ;  but  one  thing  I  promise 
you — I  promise  you,  Goguelat,  you  shall  be  dead  to-night." 

I  had  borne  so  much  from  him  in  the  past,  I  believe  he 
thought  there  was  no  end  to  my  forbearance,  and  he  was  at 
first  amazed.  But  I  have  the  j^leasure  to  think  that  some 
of  my  expressions  had  pierced  through  his  thick  hide  ;  and 
besides,  the  brute  was  truly  a  hero  of  valour,  and  loved 
fighting  for  itself.  Whatever  the  cause,  at  least,  he  had 
soon  pulled  himself  together,  and  took  the  thing  (to  do 
him  justice)  handsomely. 

"  And  I  promise  you,  by  the  devil's  horns,  that  you  shall 
have  the  chance  ! "  said  he,  and  pledged  me  again  ;  and 
again  I  did  him  scrupulous  honour. 

The  news  of  this  defiance  spread  from  prisoner  to  pris- 
oner with  the  speed  of  wings  ;  every  face  was  seen  to  be  il- 
luminated like  those  of  the  spectators  at  a  horse-race  ;  and 
indeed  you  must  first  have  tasted  the  active  life  of  a  sol- 
dier, and  then  mouldered  for  a  while  in  the  tedium  of  a  jail, 
in  order  to  understand,  perhaps  even  to  excuse,  the  delight 
of  our  companions.^  Goguelat  and  I  slept  in  the  same 
squad,  which  greatly  simplified  the  business ;  and  a  com- 
mittee of  honour  was  accordingly  formed  of  our  shed-mates. 
They  chose  for  president  a  sergeant-major  in  the  4th 
Dragoons,  a  greybeard  of  the  army,  an  excellent  military 


A  TALE   OF   A   PAIR   OF   SCISSORS  19 

subject,  and  a  good  man.  He  took  the  most  serious  view 
of  his  functions,  visited  us  both,  and  reported  our  replies 
to  the  committee.  Mine  was  of  a  decent  firmness.  I  told 
him  the  young  lady  of  whom  Goguelat  had  spoken  had  on 
several  occasions  given  me  alms.  I  reminded  him  that,  if 
we  were  now  reduced  to  hold  out  our  hands  and  sell  pill- 
boxes for  charity,  it  was  something  very  new  for  soldiers  of 
the  Empire.  We  had  all  seen  bandits  standing  at  a  corner 
of  a  wood  truckling  for  copper  halfpence,  and  after  their 
benefactors  were  gone  spitting  out  injuries  and  curses. 
'^But,"  said  I,  ^^I  trust  that  none  of  us  will  fall  so  low. 
As  a  Frenchman  and  a  soldier,  I  owe  that  young  child  grati- 
tude, and  am  bound  to  protect  her  character,  and  to  sup- 
port that  of  the  army.  You  are  my  elder  and  my  superior  : 
tell  me  if  I  am  not  right." 

He  was  a  quiet-mannered  old  fellow,  and  patted  me  with 
three  fingers  on  the  back.  "  C'est  Men,  mon  enfanty"  says 
he,  and  returned  to  his  committee. 

Goguelat  was  no  more  accommodating  than  myself.  "  I 
do  not  like  apologies  nor  those  that  make  them,"  was  his 
only  answer.  And  there  remained  nothing  but  to  arrange 
the  details  of  the  meeting.  So  far  as  regards  place  and 
time,  we  had  no  choice  ;  we  must  settle  the  dispute  at 
night,  in  the  dark,  after  a  round  had  passed  by,  and  in  the 
open  middle  of  the  shed  under  which  we  slept.  The  ques- 
tion of  arms  was  more  obscure.  We  had  a  good  many 
tools,  indeed,  which  we  employed  in  the  manufacture  of  our 
toys  ;  but  they  were  none  of  them  suited  for  a  single  com- 
bat between  civilised  men,  and,  being  nondescript,  it  was 
found  extremely  hard  to  equalise  the  chances  of  the  com- 
batants. At  length  a  pair  of  scissors  was  unscrewed  ;  and 
a  couple  of  tough  wands  being  found  in  a  corner  of  the 
courtyard,  one  blade  of  the  scissors  was  lashed  solidly  to  each 
with  resined  twine — the  twine  coming  I  know  not  whence. 


20  ST.   IVES 

but  the  resin  from  the  green  pillars  of  the  shed,  which  still 
sweated  from  the  axe.  It  was  a  strange  thing  to  feel  in 
one's  hand  this  weapon,  which  was  no  heavier  than  a  rid- 
ing-rod, and  which  it  was  difficult  to  suppose  would  prove 
more  dangerous.  A  general  oath  was  administered  and 
taken,  that  no  one  should  interfere  in  the  duel  nor  (sup- 
2:>ose  it  to  result  seriously)  betray  the  name  of  the  survivor. 
And  with  that,  all  being  then  ready,  we  composed  ourselves 
to  await  the  moment. 

The  evening  fell  cloudy  ;  not  a  star  was  to  be  seen  when 
the  first  round  of  the  night  passed  through  our  shed  and 
wound  off  along  the  ramjoarts  ;  and  as  we  took  our  places, 
we  could  still  hear,  over  the  murmurs  of  the  surrounding 
city,  the  sentries  challenging  its  further  passage.  Leclos, 
the  sergeant-major,  set  us  in  our  stations,  engaged  our 
wands,  and  left  us.  To  avoid  blood-stained  clothing,  my 
adversary  and  I  had  stripped  to  the  shoes  ;  and  the  chill  of 
the  night  enveloped  our  bodies  like  a  wet  sheet.  The  man 
was  better  at  fencing  than  myself  ;  he  was  vastly  taller  than 
I,  being  of  a  stature  almost  gigantic,  and  proportionately 
strong.  In  the  inky  blackness  of  the  shed,  it  was  impos- 
sible to  see  his  eyes  ;  and  from  the  suppleness  of  the  wands, 
I  did  not  like  to  trust  to  a  parade.  I  made  up  my  mind 
accordingly  to  profit,  if  I  might,  by  my  defect ;  and  as 
soon  as  the  signal  should  be  given,  to  throw  myself  down 
and  lunge  at  the  same  moment.  It  was  to  play  my  life 
upon  one  card  :  should  I  not  mortally  wound  him,  no  de- 
fence would  be  left  me  ;  what  was  yet  more  appalling,  I 
thus  ran  the  risk  of  bringing  my  own  face  against  his 
scissor  with  the  double  force  of  our  assaults,  and  my  face 
and  eyes  are  not  that  part  of  me  that  I  would  the  most 
readily  expose. 

^'  AUez  !  "  said  the  sergeant-major. 

Both  lunged  in  the  same  moment  with  an  equal  fury, 


A   TALE   OF   A   PAIR   OF   SCISSORS  21 

and  but  for  my  manoeuvre  both  had  certainly  been  spitted. 
As  it  was,  he  did  no  more  than  strike  my  shoukler,  while 
my  scissor  plunged  below  the  girdle  into  a  mortal  par^. ; 
and  that  great  bulk  of  a  man,  falling  from  his  whole 
height,  knocked  me  immediately  senseless. 

When  I  came  to  myself,  I  was  laid  in  my  own  sleeping- 
place,  and  could  make  out  in  the  darkness  the  outline  of 
perhaps  a  dozen  heads  crowded  around  me.  I  sat  up. 
"•  What  is  it  ?^^  I  exclaimed. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  the  sergeant-major.  '"  Blessed  be  God, 
all  is  well.'^  I  felt  him  clasp  my  hand,  and  there  were 
tears  in  his  voice.  '^  ^Tis  but  a  scratch,  my  child  ;  here  is 
papa,  who  is  taking  good  care  of  you.  Your  shoulder  is 
bound  up  ;  we  have  dressed  you  in  your  clothes  again,  and 
it  will  all  be  well.'' 

At  this  I  began  to  remember.  "  And  Goguelat  ? "  I 
gasped. 

''  He  cannot  bear  to  be  moved  ;  he  has  his  bellyful  ;  'tis 
a  bad  business,"  said  the  sergeant-major. 

The  idea  of  having  killed  a  man  with  such  an  instru- 
ment as  half  a  pair  of  scissors  seemed  to  turn  my  stomach. 
I  am  sure  I  might  have  killed  a  dozen  Avith  a  firelock,  a 
sabre,  a  bayonet,  or  any  accepted  weapon,  and  been  visited 
by  no  such  sickness  of  remorse.  And  to  this  feeling  every 
unusual  circumstance  of  our  rencounter,  the  darkness  in 
which  we  had  fought,  our  nakedness,  even  the  resin  on 
the  twine,  appeared  to  contribute.  I  ran  to  my  fallen 
adversary,  kneeled  by  him,  and  could  only  sob  his  name. 

He  bade  me  compose  myself.  "  You  have  given  me  the 
key  of  the  fields,  comrade,"  said  he.     "  8a7is  rancune  I  " 

At  this  my  horror  redoubled.  Here  had  we  two  expa- 
triated Frenchmen  engaged  in  an  ill-regulated  combat  like 
the  battles  of  beasts.  Here  was  he,  who  had  been  all  his 
life  so  great  a  ruffian,  dying  in  a  foreign  land  of  this  igno- 


22  ST.   IVES 

ble  injnr}^,  and  meeting  death  with  something  of  the  spirit 
of  a  Bayard.  I  insisted  that  the  guards  shonkl  be  sum- 
moned and  a  doctor  brought.  "  It  may  still  be  possible 
to  save  him/*'  I  cried. 

The  sergeant-major  reminded  me  of  our  engagement. 
"  If  you  had  been  wounded/'  said  he,  "^  you  must  have 
lain  there  till  the  patrol  came  by  and  found  you.  It  hap- 
pens to  be  Goguelat — and  so  must  he  !  Come,  child,  time 
to  go  to  by-by."  And  as  I  still  resisted,  "  Champdivers  I " 
he  said,  ^^tliis  is  weakness.      You  pain  me.'^ 

*^  Ay,  off  to  your  beds  with  you  !  "  said  Goguelat,  and 
named  us  in  a  company  with  one  of  his  jovial  gross 
epithets. 

Accordingly  the  squad  lay  down  in  the  dark  and  simu- 
lated, what  they  certainly  were  far  from  experiencing, 
sleep.  It  was  not  yet  late.  The  city,  from  far  below  and 
all  around  us,  sent  ujo  a  sound  of  wheels  and  feet  and 
lively  voices.  Yet  awhile,  and  the  curtain  of  the  cloud 
was  rent  across,  and  in  the  space  of  sky  between  the  eaves 
of  the  shed  and  the  irregular  outline  of  the  ramparts  a 
multitude  of  stars  appeared.  Meantime,  in  the  midst  of 
ns  lay  Goguelat,  and  could  not  always  withhold  himself 
from  groaning. 

We  heard  the  round  far  off  ;  heard  it  draw  slowly  nearer. 
Last  of  all,  it  turned  the  corner  and  moved  into  our  field 
of  vision  :  two  file  of  men  and  a  corporal  with  a  lantern, 
which  he  swung  to  and  fro,  so  as  to  cast  its  light  in  the 
recesses  of  the  yards  and  sheds. 

''  Hullo  I "  cried  the  corporal,  pausing  as  he  came  by 
Goguelat. 

He  stooped  with  his  lantern.  All  our  hearts  were  fly- 
ing. 

"What  deviFs  work  is  this  ?"  he  cried,  and  with  a  star- 
tling  voice  summoned  the  guard. 


A  TALE   OF   A   PAIR   OF   SCISSORS  23 

We  were  all  afoot  upon  the  instant ;  more  lanterns  and 
soldiers  crowded  in  front  of  the  shed  ;  an  officer  elbowed 
his  way  in.  In  the  midst  was  the  big  naked  body,  soiled 
with  blood.  Some  one  had  covered  him  with  his  blanket ; 
but  as  he  lay  there  in  agony,  he  had  partly  thrown  it  off. 

"  This  is  murder  ! ''  cried  the  officer.  "  You  wild 
beasts,  you  will  hear  of  this  to-morrow.^' 

As  Goguelat  was  raised  and  laid  upon  a  stretcher,  he 
cried  to  us  a  cheerful  and  blasphemous  farewell. 


CHAPTER  III 

MAJOR  CHEVENIX  COMES  INTO  THE  STORY,  AI^D  GOGUB« 
LAT  GOES  OUT 

There  was  never  any  talk  of  a  recovery,  and  no  time 
was  lost  in  getting  the  man^s  deposition.  He  gave  but  the 
one  account  of  it  :  that  he  had  committed  suicide  because 
he  was  sick  of  seeing  so  many  Englishmen.  The  doctor 
vowed  it  was  impossible,  the  nature  and  direction  of  the 
wound  forbidding  it.  Goguelat  rej)lied  that  he  was  more 
ingenious  than  the  other  thought  for,  and  had  propped  up 
the  weapon  in  the  ground  and  fallen  on  the  point — "  just 
like  Nebuchadnezzar,^^  he  added,  winking  to  the  assistants. 
The  doctor,  who  was  a  little,  spruce,  ruddy  man  of  an  im- 
patient temper,  pished  and  pshawed  and  swore  over  his 
patient.  "^  Nothing  to  be  made  of  him  !  "  he  cried.  "  A 
perfect  heathen.  If  we  could  only  find  the  weapon  I " 
But  the  weapon  had  ceased  to  exist.  A  little  resined  twine 
was  perhaps  blowing  about  in  the  castle  gutters  ;  some  bits 
of  broken  stick  may  have  trailed  in  corners  ;  and  behold, 
in  the  pleasant  air  of  the  morning,  a  dandy  prisoner  trim- 
ming his  nails  with  a  pair  of  scissors  ! 

Finding  the  wounded  man  so  firm,  you  may  be  sure  the 
authorities  did  not  leave  the  rest  of  us  in  peace.  No  stone 
was  left  unturned.  We  were  had  in  again  and  again  to  be 
examined,  now  singly,  now  in  twos  and  threes.  We  were 
threatened  with  all  sorts  of  impossible  severities  and 
tempted  with  all  manner  of  improbable  rewards.     I  sup» 

24 


MAJOR   CHEVENIX   COMES   INTO   THE   STORY       25 

pose  I  was  five  times  interrogated,  and  came  off  from  each 
with  flying  colours.  I  am  like  old  Souvaroff,  I  cannot 
understand  a  soldier  being  taken  aback  by  any  question  ; 
he  should  answer  as  he  marches  on  the  fire  with  an  instant 
briskness  and  gaiety.  I  may  have  been  short  of  bread, 
gold  or  grace  ;  I  was  never  yet  found  wanting  in  an  an- 
swer. My  comrades,  if  they  were  not  all  so  ready,  were 
none  of  them  less  staunch  ;  and  I  may  say  here  at  once 
that  the  inquiry  came  to  nothing  at  the  time,  and  the 
death  of  Goguelat  remained  a  mystery  of  the  prison. 
Such  were  the  veterans  of  France  !  And  yet  I  should  be 
disingenuous  if  I  did  not  own  this  was  a  case  apart  ;  in 
ordinary  circumstances,  some  one  might  have  stumbled  or 
been  intimidated  into  an  admission  ;  and  what  bound  us 
together  with  a  closeness  beyond  that  of  mere  comrades 
was  a  secret  to  which  we  were  all  committed  and  a  design 
in  which  all  were  equally  engaged.  'No  need  to  inquire  as 
to  its  nature  :  there  is  only  one  desire,  and  only  one  kind 
of  design,  that  blooms  in  prisons.  And  the  fact  that  our 
tunnel  was  near  done  supported  and  inspired  us. 

I  came  off  in  public,  as  I  have  said,  with  flying  colours  ; 
the  sittings  of  the  court  of  inquiry  died  away  like  a  tune 
that  no  one  listens  to  ;  and  yet  I  was  unmasked — I,  whom 
my  very  adversary  defended,  as  good  as  confessed,  as  good 
as  told  the  nature  of  the  quarrel,  and  by  so  doing  prepared 
for  myself  in  the  future  a  most  anxious,  disagreeable  ad- 
venture. It  was  the  third  morning  after  the  duel,  and 
Goguelat  was  still  in  life,  when  the  time  came  round  for 
me  to  give  Major  Ohevenix  a  lesson.  I  was  fond  of  this 
occupation  ;  not  that  he  paid  me  much — no  more,  indeed, 
than  eighteenpence  a  month,  the  customary  figure,  being  a 
miser  in  the  grain  ;  but  because  I  liked  his  breakfasts  and 
(to  some  extent)  himself.  At  least,  he  was  a  man  of  edu- 
cation ;  and  of  the  others  with  whom  I  had  any  opportunity 


26  ST.    IVES 

of  speech,  those  that  would  not  have  held  a  hook  uj^side- 
down  would  have  torn  the  pages  out  for  pipelights.  For  I 
must  repeat  again  that  our  body  of  prisoners  was  excep- 
tional ;  there  was  in  Edinburgh  Castle  none  of  that  educa- 
tional busyness  that  distinguished  some  of  the  other  prisons, 
so  that  men  entered  them  unable  to  read,  and  left  them  fit 
for  high  employments.  Chevenix  Avas  handsome,  and  sur- 
prisingly young  to  be  a  major  :  six  feet  in  his  stockings, 
well  set  up,  with  regular  features  and  very  clear  grey  eyes. 
It  was  impossible  to  pick  a  fault  in  him,  and  yet  the  sum- 
total  was  displeasing.  Perhaps  he  was  too  clean ;  he 
seemed  to  bear  about  with  him  the  smell  of  soap.  Cleanli- 
ness is  good,  but  I  cannot  bear  a  man's  nails  to  seem  ja- 
panned. And  certainly  he  was  too  self-possessed  and  cold. 
There  was  none  of  the  fire  of  youth,  none  of  the  swiftness 
of  the  soldier,  in  this  young  officer.  His  kindness  was  cold, 
and  cruel  cold  ;  his  deliberation  exasperating.  And  per- 
haps it  was  from  this  character,  which  is  very  much  the 
opposite  of  my  own,  that  even  in  these  days,  when  he  was 
of  service  to  me,  I  approached  him  with  suspicion  and  re- 
serve. > 

I  looked  over  his  exercise  in  the  usual  form,  and  marked 
six  faults. 

''Il'm.  Six,''  says  he,  looking  at  the  paper.  ''Very 
annoying  !     I  can  never  get  it  right." 

"  Oh,  but  you  make  excellent  progress  ! "  I  said.  I  would 
not  discourage  him,  you  understand,  but  he  was  congeni- 
tally  unable  to  learn  French.  Some  fire,  I  think,  is  need- 
ful, and  he  had  quenched  his  fire  in  soapsuds. 

He  put  the  exercise  down,  leaned  his  chin  upon  his 
hand,  and  looked  at  me  with  clear,  severe  eyes. 

''  I  think  we  must  have  a  little  talk,"  said  he. 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  disposition,"  I  replied  ;  but  I 
quaked,  for  I  knew  what  subject  to  expect. 


MAJOR   CHEVENIX   COMES   INTO   THE   STORY       27 

"  You  have  been  some  time  giving  me  these  lessons,"  he 
went  on,  ^^and  I  am  tempted  to  think  rather  well  of  you. 
I  believe  3^ou  are  a  gentleman." 

"  I  have  that  honour,  sir,"  said  I. 

"^  You  have  seen  me  for  the  same  period.  I  do  not  know 
how  I  strike  you  ;  but  perhaps  you  will  be  prepared  to  be- 
lieve that  I  also  am  a  man  of  honour,"  said  he. 

"  I  require  no  assurances  ;  the  thing  is  manifest,"  and  I 
bowed. 

"  Very  well,  then,'^  said  he.  ^^  What  about  this  Gogue- 
lat  ?  " 

^^  You  heard  me  yesterday  before  the  court,"  I  began. 
^'  I  was  awakened  only " 

''Oh  yes  ;  I  'heard  you  yesterday  before  the  court,'  no 
doubt,"  he  interrupted,  "  and  I  remember  perfectly  that 
you  were  'awakened  only.'  I  could  repeat  the  most  of  it 
by  rote,  indeed.  But  do  you  suppose  that  I  believed  you 
for  a  moment  ?" 

"  Neither  would  you  believe  me  if  I  were  to  repeat  it 
here,"  said  I. 

"  I  may  be  wrong — we  shall  soon  see,"  says  he  ;  "  but 
my  impression  is  that  you  will  not  'repeat  it  here.'  My 
impression  is  that  you  have  come  into  this  room,  and  that 
you  will  tell  me  something  before  you  go  out." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"  Let  me  explain,"  he  continued.  "  Your  evidence,  of 
course,  is  nonsense.    I  put  it  by,  and  the  court  put  it  by." 

"My  compliments  and  thanks  !"  said  I. 

"  You  must  know — that's  the  short  and  the  long,"  he 
proceeded.  "All  of  you  in  Shed  B  are  bound  to  know. 
And  I  w^ant  to  ask  you  where  is  the  common  sense  of  keep- 
ing up  this  farce,  and  maintaining  this  cock-and-bull  story 
between  friends.  Come,  come,  my  good  fellow,  own  your- 
self beaten,  and  laugh  at  it  yourself." 


28  ST.    IVES 

'•  Well,  I  hear  j'on  go  ahead,"  said  I.  ^'  Yon  put  3'onr 
heart  iu  it." 

He  crossed  his  legs  slowly.  ''  I  can  very  well  under- 
stand," he  began,  "  that  precautions  have  had  to  be  taken. 
I  daresay  an  oath  was  administered.  I  can  comprehend 
that  perfectly."  (He  was  watching  me  all  the  time  with 
his  cold,  bright  eyes.)  ''And  I  can  comprehend  that, 
about  an  affair  of  honour,  you  would  be  very  particular  to 
keep  it." 

'•About  an  affair  of  honour?"  I  repeated,  like  a  man 
quite  puzzled. 

"  It  was  not  an  affair  of  honour,  then  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  What  was  not  ?     I  do  not  follow,"  said  I. 

He  gave  no  sign  of  impatience  ;  simply  sat  awhile  silent, 
and  began  again  in  the  same  placid  and  good-natured  voice  : 
*'  The  court  and  I  were  at  one  in  setting  aside  your  evi- 
dence. It  could  not  deceive  a  child.  But  there  was  a 
difference  between  myself  and  the  other  officers,  because  / 
kneiu  my  man  and  they  did  not.  They  saw  in  you  a  com- 
mon soldier,  and  I  knew  you  for  a  gentleman.  To  them 
your  evidence  was  a  leash  of  lies,  which  they  yawned  to 
hear  you  telling.  Now,  I  was  asking  myself,  how  far  will  a 
gentleman  go  ?  Xot  surely  so  far  as  to  help  hush  a  murder 
up  ?  So  that — when  I  heard  you  tell  how  you  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  matter,  and  were  only  awakened  by  the  corporal, 
and  all  the  rest  of  it — I  translated  your  statements  into 
something  else,  ^^ow,  Champdivers,"  he  cried,  springing 
up  lively  and  coming  towards  me  with  animation,  ''  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  what  that  was,  and  you  are  going  to  help 
me  to  see  justice  done  :  how,  I  don't  know,  for  of  course  you 
are  under  oath — but  somehow.  Mark  what  I'm  going  to 
Bay." 

At  that  moment  he  laid  a  heavy,  hard  grip  upon  my 
shoulder ;  and  whether  he  said  anything  more  or  came  to 


MAJOR   CHEVENIX   COKES   INTO   THE   STORY       29 

a  full  stop  at  once,  I  am  sure  I  could  not  tell  you  to  this 
day.  For,  as  the  devil  would  have  it,  the  shoulder  he  laid 
hold  of  was  the  one  Goguelat  had  pinked.  The  wound 
was  but  a  scratch  ;  it  was  healing  with  the  first  intention  ; 
but  in  the  clutch  of  Major  Chevenix  it  gave  me  agony. 
My  head  swam  ;  the  sweat  poured  off  my  face  ;  I  must  have 
grown  deadly  pale. 

He  removed  his  hand  as  suddenly  as  he  had  laid  it  there. 

''  What  is  wrong  with  you  ? ''  said  he. 

''  It  is  nothing,''  said  I.     ''A  qualm.     It  has  gone  by." 

''  Are  you  sure  ?  "  said  he.  "  You  are  as  white  as  a 
sheet.'' 

"  Oh  no,  I  assure  you  !  Nothing  whatever.  I  am  my 
own  man  again,"  I  said,  though  I  could  scarce  command 
my  tongue. 

"  AVell,  shall  I  go  on  again  ?  "  says  he.  *'  Can  you  fol- 
low me  ?  " 

'^  Oh,  by  all  means  !"  said  I,  and  mopped  my  streaming 
face  upon  my  sleeve,  for  you  may  be  sure  in  those  days  I 
had  no  handkerchief. 

"  If  you  are  sure  you  can  follow  me.  That  was  a  very 
sudden  and  sharp  seizure,"  he  said,  doubtfully.  ''  But  if 
you  are  sure,  all  right,  and  here  goes.  An  affair  of  honour 
among  you  fellows  would  naturally  be  a  little  difficult  to 
carry  out,  perhaps  it  would  be  impossible  to  have  it  wholly 
regular.  And  yet  a  duel  might  be  very  irregular  in  form, 
and,  under  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case,  loyal 
enough  in  effect.  Do  you  take  me  ?  Now,  as  a  gentleman 
and  a  soldier." 

His  hand  rose  again  at  the  words  and  hovered  over  me. 
I  could  bear  no  more,  and  winced  away  from  him.  "  No," 
I  cried,  ^^  not  that.  Do  not  put  your  hand  upon  my  shoul- 
der. I  cannot  bear  it.  It  is  rheumatism,"  I  made  haste 
to  add.     "  My  shoulder  is  inflamed  and  very  painful." 


30  ST.   IVES 

He  returned  to  liis  chair  aivl  deliberately  liglited  a 
cigar. 

''1  am  sorry  about  your 'slioulder/'  he  said  at  last. 
^'  Let  me  send  for  the  doctor." 

'"Not  in  the  least/'  said  I.  ''It  is  a  trifle.  I  am 
quite  used  to  it.  It  does  not  trouble  me  in  the  smallest. 
At  any  rate,  I  don't  believe  in  doctors.'' 

*'  All  right/'  said  he,  and  sat  and  smoked  a  good  while 
in  a  silence  which  I  would  have  given  anything  to  break. 
^'Well/'  he  began  presently,  ''I  believe  there  is  nothing 
left  for  me  to  learn.  I  presume  I  may  say  that  I  know 
all." 

"  About  what  ?"  said  I  boldly. 

'^  About  Goguelat/'  said  he. 

^'  I  beg  your  pardon.     I  cannot  conceive/'  said  I. 

"  Oh/'  says  the  major,  "  the  man  fell  in  a  duel,  and  by 
your  hand  !     I  am  not  an  infant." 

"  By  no  means,"  said  I.  ''But  you  seem  to  me  to  be  a 
good  deal  of  a  theorist." 

''Shall  we  test  it  ?"he  asked.  "The  doctor  is  close 
by.     If  there  is  not  an  open  wound  on  your  shoulder,  I  am 

wrong.     If  there  is "     He  waved  his  hand.     "But  I 

advise  you  to  think  twice.  There  is  a  deuce  of  a  nasty 
drawback  to  the  experiment— that  what  might  have  re- 
mained private  between  us  two  becomes  public  property." 

"  Oh,  well  !  "  said  I,  with  a  laugh,  "  anything  rather  tlian 
a  doctor  !     I  cannot  bear  the  breed." 

His  last  words  had  a  good  deal  relieved  me,  but  I  was 
still  far  from  comfortable. 

Major  Chevenix  smoked  awhile,  looking  now  at  his  cigar 
ash,  now  at  me.  "  I'm  a  soldier  myself,"  he  saj^s  presently, 
"and  I've  been  out  in  my  time  and  hit  my  man.  I  don't 
want  to  run  any  one  into  a  corner  for  an  affair  that  was 
at  all  necessary  or  correct.     At  the  same  time,  I  want  to 


MAJOR   CHEVENIX   COMES   INTO   THE   STORY       81 

know  that  mnch,  and  I'll  take  your  word  of  honour  for  it. 
Otherwise,  I  shall  be  very  sorry,  but  the  doctor  must  be 
called  in." 

"  I  neither  admit  anything  nor  deny  anything,"  I  re- 
turned. '^  But  if  this  form  of  words  will  suffice  you,  here 
is  what  I  say  :  I  give  you  my  parole,  as  a  gentleman  and  a 
soldier,  there  has  nothing  taken  place  amongst  us  prisoners 
that  was  not  honourable  as  the  day." 

^'  All  right,"  says  he.  ^'  That  was  all  I  wanted.  You  can 
go  now,  Champdivers." 

And  as  I  was  going  out  he  added,  with  a  laugh  :  *^  By- 
the-bye,  I  ought  to  apologise  :  I  had  no  idea  I  was  applying 
the  torture  ! " 

The  same  afternoon  the  doctor  came  into  the  courtyard 
with  a  piece  of  paper  in  his  hand.  He  seemed  hot  and 
angry,  and  had  certainly  no  mind  to  be  polite. 

"  Here  I "  he  cried.  '^  Which  of  you  fellows  knows  any 
English  ?  0!" — spying  me — ^^  there  you  are,  what's  your 
name  !  You'W  do.  Tell  these  fellows  that  the  other  fel- 
low^s  dying.  He's  booked  ;  no  use  talking  ;  I  expect  he'll 
go  by  evening.  And  tell  them  I  don't  envy  the  feelings  of 
the  fellow  who  spiked  him.     Tell  them  that  first." 

I  did  so. 

''  Then  you  can  tell  'em,"  he  resumed,  ^'  that  the  fellow. 
Goggle — what's  his  name  ? — wants  to  see  some  of  them  be- 
fore he  gets  his  marching  orders.  If  I  got  it  right,  he 
wants  to  kiss  or  embrace  you,  or  some  sickening  stuff. 
Got  that  ?  Then  here's  a  list  he's  had  written,  and  you'd 
better  read  it  out  to  them — I  can't  make  head  or  tail  of 
your  beastly  names — and  they  can  answer  preMiit,  and  fall 
in  against  that  wall." 

It  was  with  a  singular  movement  of  incongruous  feelings 
that  I  read  the  first  name  on  the  list.  I  had  no  wish  to 
look  again  on  my  own  handiwork  ;  my  flesh  recoiled  from 


32  ST.   IVES 

the  idea ;  and  how  conld  I  be  sure  what  reception  he  de- 
signed to  give  me  ?  The  cure  was  in  my  own  hand  ;  I 
coukl  pass  that  first  name  over — the  doctor  would  not 
know — and  I  might  stay  away.  But  to  the  subsequent 
great  gladness  of  my  heart,  I  did  not  dwell  for  an  instant 
on  the  thought,  walked  over  to  the  designated  wall,  faced 
about,  read  out  the  name  ^'  Champdivers,"  and  answered 
myself  with  the  word  ^*  Present." 

There  were  some  half-dozen  on  the  list,  all  told  ;  and  as 
soon  as  we  were  mustered,  the  doctor  led  the  way  to  the 
hospital,  and  we  followed  after,  like  a  fatigue  party,  in 
single  file.  At  the  door  he  paused,  told  us  "  the  fel- 
low "  would  see  each  of  ns  alone,  and,  as  soon  as  I  had  ex- 
plained that,  sent  me  by  myself  into  the  ward.  It  was  a 
small  room,  whitewashed  ;  a  south  window  stood  open  on  a 
vast  depth  of  air  and  a  spacious  and  distant  prospect ;  and 
from  deep  below,  in  the  Grassmarket,  the  voices  of  hawk- 
ers came  up  clear  and  far  away.  Hard  by,  on  a  little  bed, 
lay  Goguelat.  The  sunburn  had  not  yet  faded  from  his 
face,  and  the  stamp  of  death  was  already  there.  There  was 
something  wild  and  unmannish  in  his  smile,  that  took  me 
by  the  throat ;  only  death  and  love  know  or  have  ever  seen 
it.    And  when  he  spoke,  it  seemed  to  shame  his  coarse  talk. 

He  held  out  his  arms  as  if  to  embrace  me.  I  drew  near 
with  incredible  shrinkings,  and  surrendered  myself  to  his 
arms  with  overwhelming  disgust.  But  he  only  drew  my 
ear  down  to  his  lips. 

"  Trust  me,"  he  whispered.  "  Je  suis  hon  hougre,  moi. 
I'll  take  it  to  hell  with  me,  and  tell  the  devil." 

Why  should  I  go  on  to  reproduce  his  grossness  and  triv- 
ialities ?  All  that  he  thought,  at  that  hour,  was  even  no- 
ble, though  he  could  not  clothe  it  otherwise  than  in  the 
language  of  a  brutal  farce.  Presently  he  bade  me  call  the 
doctor ;  and  when  that  oflicer  had  come  in,  raised  a  little 


MAJOR   CHEVENIX   COMES   INTO   THE   STORY       33 

up  in  his  bed,  pointed  first  to  himself  and  then  to  me, 
who  stood  weeping  by  his  side,  and  several  times  repeated 
the  expression,  ^^Frinds — frinds — dam  frinds." 

To  my  great  surprise,  the  doctor  appeared  very  much  af- 
fected. He  nodded  his  little  bob-wigged  head  at  us,  and 
said  repeatedly,  "  All  right,  Johnny — me  comprong/' 

Then  Goguelat  shook  hands  with  me,  embraced  me 
again,  and  I  went  out  of  the  room  sobbing  like  an  infant. 

How  often  have  I  not  seen  it,  that  the  most  unpardona- 
ble fellows  make  the  happiest  exits  !  It  is  a  fate  we  may 
well  envy  them.  Goguelat  was  detested  in  life  ;  in  the  last 
three  days,  by  his  admirable  staunchness  and  consideration, 
he  won  every  heart ;  and  when  word  went  about  the  prison 
the  same  evening  that  he  was  no  more,  the  voice  of  conver- 
sation became  hushed  as  in  a  house  of  mourning. 

For  myself  I  was  like  a  man  distracted  ;  I  cannot  think 
what  ailed  me  :  when  I  awoke  the  following  day,  nothing 
remained  of  it ;  but  that  night  I  was  filled  with  a  gloomy 
fury  of  the  nerves.  I  had  killed  him  ;  he  had  done  his 
utmost  to  protect  me  ;  I  had  seen  him  with  that  awful 
smile.  And  so  illogical  and  useless  is  this  sentiment  of 
remorse,  that  I  was  ready,  at  a  word  or  a  look,  to  quarrel 
with  somebody  else.  I  presume  the  disposition  of  my 
mind  was  imprinted  on  my  face  ;  and  when,  a  little  after, 
I  overtook,  saluted  and  addressed  the  doctor,  he  looked 
on  me  with  commiseration  and  surprise. 

I  had  asked  him  if  it  was  true. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  the  fellow's  gone."  i 

'^  Did  he  suffer  much  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Devil  a  bit ;  passed  away  like  a  lamb,"  said  he.  He 
looked  on  me  a  little,  and  I  saw  his  hand  go  to  his  fob. 
*^Here,  take  that!  no  sense  in  fretting,"  he  said,  and, 
putting  a  silver  twopenny-bit  in  my  hand,  he  left  me. 

I  should  have  had  that  twopenny  framed  to  hang  upon 
3 


34  ST.    IVES 

the  wall,  for  it  was  the  man^s  one  act  of  charity  in  all  my 
knowledge  of  him.  Instead  of  that,  I  stood  looking  at  it 
in  my  hand  and  laughed  out  bitterly,  as  I  realised  his  mis- 
take ;  then  went  to  the  ramparts,  and  flung  it  far  into  the 
air  like  blood  money.  The  night  was  falling  ;  through  an 
embrasure  and  across  the  gardened  valley  I  saw  the  lamp- 
lighters hasting  along  Princes  Street  with  ladder  and 
lamp,  and  looked  on  moodily.  As  I  was  so  standing  a 
hand  was  laid  upon  my  shoulder,  and  I  turned  about.  It 
was  Major  Chevenix,  dressed  for  the  evening,  and  his 
neckcloth  really  admirably  folded.  I  never  denied  the 
man  could  dress. 

^'  Ah  I ''  said  he,  "  I  thought  it  was  you,  Champdivers. 
So  he's  gone  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

^^Come,  come,'^  said  he,  ^^you  must  cheer  up.  Of 
course  it's  very  distressing,  very  painful  and  all  that.  But 
do  you  know,  it  ain^t  such  a  bad  thing  either  for  you  or 
me  ?  What  with  his  death  and  your  visit  to  him  I  am 
entirely  reassured.'^ 

So  I  was  to  owe  my  life  to  Goguelat  at  every  point. 

"I  had  rather  not  discuss  it,"  said  I. 

''AVell,'^  said  he,  "one  word  more,  and  I'll  agree  to 
bury  the  subject.     What  did  you  light  about  V 

*'  Oh,  what  do  men  ever  fight  about  V  I  cried. 

^'Alady  ?"said  he. 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

^'  Deuce  you  did  !  "  said  he.  "  I  should  scarce  have 
thought  it  of  him.'' 

And  at  this  my  ill-humour  broke  fairly  out  in  words. 
'*  He  !  "  I  cried.  '*  lie  never  dared  to  address  her — only 
to  look  at  her  and  vomit  his  vile  insults  I  She  may  have 
given  him  sixpence  :  if  she  did,  it  may  take  him  to  heaven 
vet  I" 


MAJOR   CHEVENIX   COMES   INTO   THE   STOPwY       35 

At  this  I  became  aware  of  his  eyes  set  upon  me  with  a 
considering,  look,  and  brought  up  sharply. 

"  Well,  well/'  said  he.  ''  Good  night  to  you,  Champ- 
divers.  Come  to  me  at  breakfast-time  to-morrow,  and 
we'll  talk  of  other  subjects.'' 

I  fully  admit  the  man's  conduct  was  not  bad  :  in  writiug 
it  down  so  long  after  the  events  1  can  even  see  that  it  was 
good. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ST.    lYES   GETS   A   BUNDLE   OF   BAJ5"K   NOTES 

I  WAS  surprised  one  morning,  shortly  after,  to  find  my- 
self the  object  of  marked  consideration  by  a  civilian  and 
a  stranger.  This  was  a  man  of  the  middle  age  ;  he  had  a 
face  of  a  mulberry  colour,  round  black  eyes,  comical  tufted 
eyebrows,  and  a  protuberant  forehead  ;  and  was  dressed  in 
clothes  of  a  Quakerish  cut.  In  spite  of  his  plainness,  he 
had  that  inscrutable  air  of  a  man  well-to-do  in  his  affairs. 
I  conceived  he  had  been  some  while  observing  me  from  a 
distance,  for  a  sparrow  sat  betwixt  us  quite  unalarmed  on 
the  breech  of  a  piece  of  cannon.  So  soon  as  our  eyes  met, 
he  drew  near  and  addressed  me  in  the  French  language, 
which  he  spoke  with  a  good  fluency  but  an  abominable 
accent. 

*•  1  luive  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Monsieur  le  Vicomte 
Anne  de  Keroual  de  Saint- Yves  ? ''  said  he. 

"  Well,''  said  I,  "  I  do  not  call  myself  all  that  ;  but  I 
have  a  right  to,  if  I  chose.  In  the  meanwhile  I  call  myself 
plain  Champdivers,  at  your  disposal.  It  was  my  mother's 
)iame,  and  good  to  go  soldiering  with." 

*' I  think  not  quite,"  said  he;  ^'^for  if  I  remember 
rightly,  your  mother  also  had  the  particle.  Her  name  was 
Florimonde  de  Champdivers." 

"  Eight  again  ! "  said  I,  "  and  I  am  extremely  pleased  to 
meet  a  gentleman  so  well  informed  in  my  quarterings.  Is 
monsieur  Born  himself  ?  "     Tliis  I  said  with  a  great  air  of 

36 


ST.    IVES   GETS   A   BUNDLE   OF   BANK   NOTES        37 

assumption,  partly  to  conceal  the  degree  of  curiosity  with 
which  my  visitor  had  inspired  me,  and  in  part  because  it 
struck  me  as  highly  incongruous  and  comical  in  my  prison 
garb  and  on  the  lips  of  a  private  soldier. 

He  seemed  to  think  so  too,  for  he  laughed. 

"  Xo,  sir,^'  he  returned,  speaking  this  time  in  English  ; 
''  I  am  not  *  horn/  as  you  call  it,  and  must  content  myself 
with  dying,  of  which  I  am  equally  susceptible  with  the 
best  of  you.  My  name  is  Mr.  Romaine — Daniel  Romaine 
— a  solicitor  of  London  City,  at  your  service  ;  and,  what 
Avill  perhaps  interest  you  more,  I  am  here  at  the  request  of 
your  great-uncle,  the  Count.^' 

"  What  I ''  I  cried,  "  does  M.  de  Keroual  de  Saint-Yves 
remember  the  existence  of  such  a  person  as  myself,  and  will 
he  deign  to  count  kinship  with  a  soldier  of  Napoleon  ?  '^ 

'^  You  speak  English  well,^'  observed  my  visitor. 

'*  It  has  been  a  second  language  to  me  from  a  child, '^ 
said  I.  ^'1  had  an  English  nurse  ;  my  father  spoke  Eng- 
lish with  me  ;  and  I  was  finished  by  a  countryman  of  yours 
and  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  a  Mr.  Vicary." 

A  strong  expression  of  interest  came  into  the  lawyer's 
face. 

''  What  !  "  he  cried,  "  you  knew  poor  Vicary  ?" 

''For  more  than  a  year,"  said  I ;  "  and  shared  his  hid- 
ing-place for  many  months. ''' 

"  And  I  was  his  clerk,  and  have  succeeded  him  in  busi- 
ness,'' said  he.  "  Excellent  man  !  It  was  on  the  affairs 
of  M.  de  Keroual  that  he  went  to  that  accursed  country, 
from  which  he  was  never  destined  to  return.  Do  you 
chance  to  know  his  end,  sir  ?  " 

"lam  sorry,"  said  I,  ''  I  do.  He  perished  miserably  at 
the  hands  of  a  gang  of  banditti,  such  as  we  call  chauffeurs. 
In  a  word,  he  was  tortured,  and  died  of  it.  See,"  I  added, 
kicking  off  one  shoe,  for  I  had  no  stocking  ',  "1  was  no 


38  ST.   IVES 

more  than  a  child,  and  see  how  they  had  begun  to  treat 
myself/' 

He  looked  at  tlie  mark  of  my  old  burn  with  a  certain 
shrinking.  ''Beastly  people! ''I  heard  him  mutter  to 
himself. 

''  The  English  may  say  so  with  a  good  grace/'  I  observed 
politely. 

Such  speeches  were  the  coin  in  which  I  paid  my  way 
among  this  credulous  race.  Ninety  per  cent,  of  our  vis- 
itors would  have  accepted  the  remark  as  natural  in  itself 
and  creditable  to  my  powers  of  judgment,  but  it  appeared 
my  lawyer  was  more  acute. 

"  You  are  not  entirely  a  fool,  I  perceive,"  said  he. 

''  No,"  said  I  ;  "  not  wholly." 

"  And  yet  it  is  well  to  beware  of  the  ironical  mood,"  he 
continued.  '^  It  is  a  dangerous  instrument.  Your  great- 
uncle  has,  I  believe,  practised  it  very  much,  until  it  is  now 
become  a  problem  what  he  means." 

'^  And  that  brings  me  back  to  what  you  will  admit  is  a 
most  natural  inquiry,"  said  I.  ''To  what  do  I  owe  the 
pleasure  of  this  visit  ?  how  did  you  recognise  me  ?  and  how 
did  yon  know  I  was  here  ?  " 

Carefully  separating  his  coat  skirts,  the  lawyer  took  a 
seat  beside  me  on  the  edge  of  the  flags. 

"It  is  rather  an  odd  story,"  says  he,  "and,  with  your 
leave,  I'll  answer  the  second  question  first.  It  was  from  a 
certain  resemblance  you  bear  to  your  cousin,  M.  le  \'\- 
comte." 

"I  trust,  sir,  that  I  resemble  him  advantageously?" 
said  I. 

"  I  hasten  to  reassure  yon,"  was  the  reply  :  "  yon  do. 
To  my  eyes,  M.  Alain  de  St. -Yves  has  scarce  a  pleasing  ex- 
terior. And  yet,  when  I  knew  you  were  here,  and  was 
actually  looking  for  you — why,  the  likeness  helped.     As 


1 


ST.    IVES   GETS   A   BUNDLE   OF   BANK   NOTES        39 

for  how  I  came  to  know  your  whereabouts,  by  an  odd 
enough  chance,  it  is  again  M.  Alain  we -have  to  thank.  I 
should  tell  you,  he  has  for  some  time  made  it  his  business 
to  keep  M.  de  Keroual  informed  of  your  career  ;  with  what 
purpose  I  leave  you  to  judge.  When  he  first  brought  the 
news  of  your — that  you  were  serving  Buonaparte,  it  seemed 
it  might  be  the  death  of  the  old  gentleman,  so  hot  was  his 
resentment.  But  from  one  thing  to  another,  matters  have 
a  little  changed.  Or  I  should  rather  say,  not  a  little.  AVe 
learned  you  were  under  orders  for  the  Peninsula,  to  fight 
the  English  ;  then  that  you  had  been  commissioned  for  a 
piece  of  bravery,  and  were  again  reduced  to  the  ranks. 
And  from  one  thing  to  another  (as  I  say),  M.  de  Keroual 
became  used  to  the  idea  that  you  were  his  kinsman  and  3^et 
served  with  Buonaparte,  and  filled  instead  with  wonder 
that  he  should  have  another  kinsman  who  was  so  remark- 
ably well  informed  of  events  in  France.  And  it  now  be- 
came a  very  disagreeable  question,  whether  the  young  gen- 
tleman was  not  a  spy  ?  In  short,  sir,  in  seeking  to  disserve 
you,  he  had  accumulated  against  himself  a  load  of  sus- 
picions. 

My  visitor  now  paused,  took  snuff,  and  looked  at  me 
with  an  air  of  benevolence. 

"  Good  God,  sir  \"  says  I,  ^'  this  is  a  curious  story." 
''  You  will  say  so  before  I  have  done,'^  said  he.     "  For 
there  have  two  events  followed.     The  first  of  these  was  an 
encounter  of  M.  de  Keroual  and  M.  de  Mauseant.'' 

"  I  know  the  man  to  my  cost,"  said  I  :  ''it  was  through 
him  I  lost  my  commission." 

"  Do  you  tell  me  so  ?  "  he  cried.    ''  Why,  here  is  news  !" 
''0,    I   cannot   complain  ! "    said   I.     ''I   was   in   the 
wrong.     I  did  it  with  my  eyes  open.     If  a  man  gets  a  pris- 
oner to  guard  and  lets  him  go,  the  least  he  can  expect  is  to 
be  degraded." 


40  ST.   IVES 

'^Yon  will  be  paid  for  it/'  said  he.  ''You  did  well  for 
yourself  aud  better  for  your  king." 

''  If  I  had  thought  I  was  injuring  my  emperor/'  said  I, 
"  I  would  have  let  M.  de  Mauseant  burn  in  hell  ere  I  had 
helped  him,  and  be  sure  of  that  !  I  saw  in  him  only  a  pri- 
vate person  in  a  difficulty  :  I  let  him  go  in  private  charity  ; 
not  even  to  profit  myself  will  I  suffer  it  to  be  misunder- 
stood.'' 

''  Well,  well/'  said  the  lawyer,  ''  no  matter  now.  This 
is  a  foolish  warmth— a  very  misplaced  enthusiasm,  believe 
me  !  The  point  of  the  story  is  that  M.  de  Mauseant  spoke 
of  you  with  gratitude,  and  drew  your  character  in  such  a 
manner  as  greatly  to  affect  your  uncle's  views.  Hard  upon 
the  back  of  which,  in  came  your  humble  servant,  and  laid 
before  him  the  direct  proof  of  what  we  had  been  so  long 
suspecting.  There  was  no  dubiety  permitted.  M.  Alain's 
expensive  way  of  life,  his  clothes  and  mistresses,  his  dicing 
and  racehorses,  were  all  explained  :  he  was  in  the  pay  of 
Buonaparte,  a  hired  spy,  and  a  man  that  held  the  strings 
of  what  I  can  only  call  a  convolution  of  extremely  fishy 
enterprises.  To  do  M.  de  Keroual  justice,  he  took  it  in 
the  best  way  imaginable,  destroyed  the  evidences  of  the 
one  great-nephew's  disgrace — and  transferred  his  interest 
wholly  to  the  other." 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  that  ?  "  said  I. 

''  I  will  tell  you,"  says  he.  "  There  is  a  remarkable  in- 
consistency in  human  nature  which  gentlemen  of  my  cloth 
have  a  great  deal  of  occasion  to  observe.  Selfish  persons 
can  live  without  chick  or  child,  they  can  live  without  all 
mankind  except  perhaps  the  barber  and  the  apothecary  ; 
but  when  it  comes  to  dying,  they  seem  physically  unable 
to  die  without  an  heir.  You  can  apply  this  principle  for 
yourself.  Viscount  Alain,  though  he  scarce  guesses  it,  is 
no  longer  in  the  field.     Remains,  Viscount  Anne." 


ST.    IVES   GETS   A   BUNDLE   OF   BANK   NOTES       41 


(( 


I  see/'  said  I,  "  you  give  a  very  unfavourable  impres- 
sion of  my  uncle,  the  Count/' 

''I  had  not  meant  it/'  said  he.  "  He  has  led  a  loose 
life — sadly  loose — but  he  is  a  man  it  is  impossible  to  know 
and  not  to  admire  ;  his  courtesy  is  exquisite." 

^'  And  so  you  think  there  is  actually  a  chance  for  me  ?" 
I  asked. 

'^Understand/'  said  he  :  ''in  saying  as  much  as  I  have 
done,  I  travel  quite  beyond  my  brief.  I  have  been  clothed 
with  no  capacity  to  talk  of  wills,  or  heritages,  or  your 
cousin.  I  was  sent  here  to  make  but  the  one  communica- 
tion :  that  M.  de  Keroual  desires  to  meet  his  great- 
nephew." 

'^  Well,"  said  I,  looking  about  me  on  the  battlements  by 
which  we  sat  surrounded,  ^'  this  is  a  case  in  which  Mahomet 
must  certainly  come  to  the  mountain." 

''Pardon  me,"  said  Mr.  Eomaine,  "you  know  already 
your  uncle  is  an  aged  man  ;  but  I  have  not  yet  told  you 
that  he  is  quite  broken  up,  and  his  death  shortly  looked 
for.  No,  no,  there  is  no  doubt  about  it — it  is  the  moun- 
tain that  must  come  to  Mahomet." 

"  From  an  Englishman,  the  remark  is  certainly  signifi- 
cant," said  I  ;  "  but  you  are  of  course,  and  by  trade,  a 
keeper  of  men's  secrets,  and  I  see  you  keep  that  of  Cousin 
Alain,  which  is  not  the  mark  of  a  truculent  patriotism,  to 
say  the  least." 

"  I  am  first  of  all  the  lawyer  of  your  family  !"  says  he. 

"  That  being  so,"  said  I,  "I  can  perhaps  stretch  a  point 
myself.  This  rock  is  very  high,  and  it  is  very  steep  ;  a 
man  might  come  by  a  devil  of  a  fall  from  almost  any  part 
of  it,  and  yet  I  believe  I  have  a  pair  of  wings  that  might 
carry  me  just  so  far  as  to  the  bottom.  Once  at  the  bottom 
I  am  helpless." 

"  And  perhaps  it  is  just  then  that  I  could  step  in,"  re- 


42  ST.    IVES 

turned  the  lawyer.  ^'  Suppose  by  some  contingency,  at 
which  I  make  no  guess,  and  on  which  I  offer  no  opin- 
ion  '' 

But  here  I  interrupted  him.  "  One  word  ere  3'ou  go 
further.     I  am  under  no  parole,"  said  I. 

*'' I  understood  so  much,''Mie  replied,  ^^  although  some 
of  you  French  gentry  find  their  word  sit  lightly  on  them.'' 

*'  Sir,  I  am  not  one  of  those,'*'  said  I. 

''  To  do  you  plain  justice,  I  do  not  think  3^ou  one,"  said 
he.  '^Suppose  yourself,  then,  set  free  and  at  the  bottom 
of  the  rock,''  he  continued,  "  although  I  may  not  be  able 
"to  do  much,  I  believe  I  can  do  something  to  help  you  on 
your  road.  In  the  first  place  I  would  carry  this,  whether 
in  an  inside  pocket  or  my  shoe."  And  he  passed  me  a 
bundle  of  bank  notes. 

"  Ko  harm  in  that,"  said  I,  at  once  concealing  them. 

^'  In  the  second  place,"  he  resumed,  *Mt  is  a  great  way 
from  here  to  where  your  uncle  lives — Amersham  Place, 
not  far  from  Dunstable  ;  you  have  a  great  part  of  Britain 
to  get  through  ;  and  for  the  first  stages,  I  must  leave  you 
to  your  own  luck  and  ingenuity.  I  have  no  acquaintance 
here  in  Scotland,  or  at  least  "(with  a  grimace)  ^^no  dis- 
honest ones.  But  farther  to  the  south,  about  Wakefield, 
I  am  told  there  is  a  gentleman  called  Burchell  Fenn,  who 
is  not  so  particular  a-  some  others,  and  might  be  willing 
to  give  you  a  cast  forward.  In  fact,  sir,  I  believe  it's  the 
man's  trade  :  a  piece  of  knowledge  that  burns  my  mouth. 
But  that  is  what  you  get  by  meddling  with  rogues  ;  and 
perhaps  the  biggest  rogue  now  extant,  M.  de  Saint-Yves, 
is  your  cousin,  M.  Alain." 

^'  If  this  be  a  man  of  my  cousin's,"  I  observed,  "  I  am 
perhaps  better  to  keep  clear  of  him  ?  " 

"  It  was  through  some  papers  of  3^our  cousin's  that  we 
came  across  his  trail,"  replied  the  lawyer.     "  But  I  am  in- 


ST.    IVES   GETS   A   BUNDLE   OF   BANK   NOTES       43 

clined  to  think,  so  far  as  anything  is  safe  in  such  a  nasty 
business,  you  may  apply  to  the  man  Fenn.  You  might 
even,  I  think,  use  the  Viscount's  name  ;  and  the  little 
trick  of  family  resemblance  might  come  in.  How,  for  in- 
stance, if  you  were  to  call  yourself  his  brother  ? '' 

'^  It  might  be  done,^'eaid  I.  ''  But  look  here  a  moment  I 
You  propose  to  me  a  very  difficult  game :  I  have  appar- 
ently a  devil  of  an  opponent  in  my  cousin  ;  and  being  a 
prisoner  of  war,  I  can  scarce  be  said  to  hold  good  cards. 
For  what  stakes,  then,  am  I  playing  ? '' 

''  They  are  very  large,''  said  he.  ^'  Your  great-uncle  is 
immensely  rich — immensely  rich.  He  was  wise  in  time ; 
he  smelt  the  revolution  long  before  ;  sold  all  that  he  could, 
and  had  all  that  was  movable  transported  to  England 
through  my  firm.  There  are  considerable  estates  in  Eng- 
land ;  Amersham  Place  itself  is  very  fine  ;  and  he  has 
much  money,  wisely  invested.  He  lives,  indeed,  like  a 
prince.  And  of  what  use  is  it  to  him  ?  He  has  lost  all 
that  was  worth  living  for — his  family,  his  country;  he  has 
seen  his  king  and  queen  murdered  ;  he  has  seen  all  these 
miseries  and  infamies,"  pursued  the  lawyer,  with  a  rising 
inflection  and  a  heightening  colour ;  and  then  broke  sud- 
denly off, — '^  In  short,  sir,  he  has  seen  all  the  advantages 
of  that  government  for  which  his  nephew  carries  arms, 
and  he  has  the  misfortune  not  to  like  them." 

"  Y^ou  speak  with  a  bitterness  that  I  suppose  I  must  ex- 
cuse," said  I  ;  "  yet  which  of  us  has  the  more  reason  to  be 
bitter  ?  This  man,  my  uncle,  M.  de  Keroual,  fled.  Yiy 
parents,  who  w^ere  less  wise  perhaps,  remained.  In  the 
beginning,  they  were  even  republicans ;  to  the  end,  they 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  despair  of  the  people.  It  was  a 
glorious  folly,  for  which,  as  a  son,  I  reverence  them.  First 
one  and  then  the  other  perished.  If  I  have  any  mark  of 
a  gentleman,  all  who  taught  me  died  upon  the  scaffold. 


44  ST.    IVES 

and  my  last  school  of  manners  was  the  prison  of  the  Ab- 
baye.  Do  yon  think  you  can  teach  bitterness  to  a  man 
with  a  history  like  mine  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  try,"  said  he.  ^'  And  yet  there  is 
one  point  I  cannot  understand  :  I  cannot  understand  that 
one  of  3^our  blood  and  experience  should  serve  the  Corsican. 
I  cannot  understand  it :  it  seems  as  though  everything  gen- 
erous in  you  must  rise  against  that — domination." 

''  And  perhaps/'  I  retorted,  "  had  your  childhood  passed 
among  wolves,  you  would  have  been  overjoyed  yourself  to 
see  the  Corsican  Shepherd." 

"  AYell,  well,"  replied  Mr.  Romaine,  "  it  may  be.  There 
are  things  that  do  not  bear  discussion." 

And  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  he  disappeared  abruptly 
down  a  flight  of  steps  and  under  the  shadow  of  a  ponder- 
ous arch. 


CHAPTEE  V 

ST.    IVES   IS   SHOWI^   A   HOUSE 

The  lawyer  was  scarce  gone  before  I  remembered  many 
omissions  ;  and  chief  among  these,  that  I  had  neglected  to 
get  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn's  address.  Here  was  an  essential 
point  neglected  ;  and  I  ran  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  to  find 
myself  already  too  late.  The  lawyer  was  beyond  my  view  ; 
in  the  archway  that  led  downward  to  the  castle  gate,  only 
the  red  coat  and  the  bright  arms  of  a  sentry  glittered  in  the 
shadow  ;  and  I  could  but  return  to  my  place  upon  the  ram- 
parts. 

I  am  not  very  sure  that  I  was  properly  entitled  to  this 
corner.  But  I  was  a  high  favourite  ;  not  an  officer,  and 
scarce  a  private,  in  the  castle  would  have  turned  me  back, 
except  upon  a  thing  of  moment  ;  and  whenever  I  desired 
to  be  solitary,  I  was  suffered  to  sit  here  behind  my  piece  of 
cannon  unmolested.  The  cliff  went  down  before  me  almost 
sheer,  but  mantled  with  a  thicket  of  climbing  trees  ;  from 
farther  down,  an  outwork  raised  its  turret  ;  and  across  the 
valley  I  had  a  view  of  that  long  terrace  of  Princes  Street 
which  serves  as  a  promenade  to  the  fashionable  inhabitants 
of  Edinburgh.  A  singularity  in  a  military  prison,  that  it 
should  command  a  view  on  the  chief  thoroughfare  ! 

It  is  not  necessary  that  I  should  trouble  you  with  the 
train  of  my  reflections,  which  turned  upon  the  interview 
I  liad  just  concluded  and  the  hopes  that  were  now  opening 
before  me.     What  is  more  essential,  my  eye  (even  while  I 

45 


46  ST.   IVES 

thought)  kept  following  the  movement  of  the  passengers 
on  Princes  Street,  as  they  passed  briskly  to  and  fro — met, 
greeted,  and  bowed  to  each  other — or  entered  and  left  the 
shops,  which  are  in  that  quarter,  and,  for  a  town  of  the 
Britannic  provinces,  particularly  fine.  My  mind  being 
busy  upon  other  things,  the  course  of  my  eye  was  the  more 
random  ;  and  it  chanced  that  I  followed,  for  some  time,  the 
advance  of  a  young  gentleman  with  a  red  head  and  a  white 
great-coat,  for  whom  I  cared  nothing  at  the  moment,  and  of 
whom  it  is  probable  I  shall  be  gathered  to  my  fathers  with- 
out learning  more.  He  seemed  to  have  a  large  acquaint- 
ance :  his  hat  was  for  ever  in  his  hand  ;  and  I  daresay  I  had 
already  observed  him  exchanging  compliments  with  half  a 
dozen,  when  he  drew  up  at  last  before  a  young  man  and 
a  young  lady  whose  tall  persons  and  gallant  carriage  I 
thought  I  recognised. 

It  was  impossible  at  such  a  distance  that  I  could  be  sure, 
but  the  thought  was  sufficient,  and  I  craned  out  of  the  em- 
brasure to  follow  them  as  long  as  possible.  To  think  that 
such  emotions,  that  such  a  concussion  of  the  blood,  may 
have  been  inspired  by  a  chance  resemblance,  and  that  I  may 
have  stood  and  thrilled  there  for  a  total  stranger  !  This 
distant  view,  at  least,  whether  of  Flora  or  of  some  one  else, 
changed  in  a  moment  the  course  of  my  reflections.  It  was 
all  very  well,  and  it  was  highly  needful,  I  should  see  my 
uncle  ;  but  an  uncle,  a  great-uncle  at  that,  and  one  whom 
I  had  never  seen,  leaves  the  imagination  cold ;  and  if  I 
were  to  leave  the  castle,  I  might  never  again  have  the  op- 
portunity of  finding  Flora.  The  little  impression  I  had 
made,  even  supposing  I  had  made  any,  how  soon  it  would 
die  out !  how  soon  I  should  sink  to  be  a  phantom  memory, 
with  which  (in  after  days)  she  might  amuse  a  husband  and 
children  !  No,  the  impression  must  be  clenched,  the  wax 
impressed  with  the  seal,  ere  I  left  Edinburgh.  And  at  this 


ST.    IVES   IS   SHOWN   A   HOUSE  47 

the  two  interests  that  were  now  contending  in  my  bosom 
came  together  and  became  one.  I  wished  to  see  Flora 
again ;  and  I  wanted  some  one  to  further  me  in  my  flight 
and  to  get  me  new  clothes.  The  conclusion  was  apparent. 
Except  for  persons  in  the  garrison  itself,  with  whom  it  was 
a  point  of  honour  and  military  duty  to  retain  me  captive,  I 
knew,  in  the  whole  country  of  Scotland,  these  two  alone. 
If  it  were  to  be  done  at  all,  they  must  be  my  helpers.  To 
tell  them  of  my  designed  escape  while  I  was  still  in  bonds, 
would  be  to  lay  before  them  a  most  difficult  choice.  What 
they  might  do  in  such  a  case,  I  could  not  in  the  least  be 
sure  of,  for  (the  same  case  arising)  I  was  far  from  sure  what 
I  should  do  myself.  It  was  plain  I  niust  escape  -first. 
When  the  harm  was  done,  when  I  was  no  more  than  a  poor 
wayside  fugitive,  I  might  apply  to  them  with  less  offence 
and  more  security.  To  this  end  it  became  necessary  that 
I  should  find  out  where  they  lived  and  how  to  reach  it ;  and 
feeling  a  strong  confidence  that  they  would  soon  return  to 
visit  me,  I  prepared  a  series  of  baits  with  which  to  angle 
for  my  information.  It  will  be  seen  the  first  was  good 
enough. 

Perhaps  two  days  after.  Master  Ronald  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance by  himself.  I  had  no  hold  upon  the  boy,  and 
pretermitted  my  design  till  I  should  have  laid  court  to  him 
and  engaged  his  interest.  He  was  prodigiously  embar- 
rassed, not  having  previously  addressed  me  otherwise  than 
by  a  bow  and  blushes  ;  and  he  advanced  to  me  with  an  air 
of  one  stubbornly  performing  a  duty,  like  a  raw  soldier 
under  fire.  I  laid  down  my  carving  ;  greeted  him  with  a 
good  deal  of  formality,  such  as  I  thought  he  would  enjoy  ; 
and  finding  him  to  remain  silent,  branched  off  into  narra- 
tives of  my  campaigns  such  as  Goguelat  himself  might 
have  scrupled  to  endorse.  He  visibly  thawed  and 
brightened ;  drew  more  near  to  where  I   sat ;  forgot  his 


48  ''  ST.   IVES 

timidity  so  far  as  to  pnt  many  questions  ;  and  at  last,  with 
another  bhish,  informed  me  he  was  himself  expecting  a 
commission. 

'MVell,"  said  I,  ^Hhey  are  fine  troops,  your  British 
troops  in  the  Peninsula.  A  young  gentleman  of  spirit 
may  well  be  proud  to  be  engaged  at  the  head  of  such 
soldiers.^' 

"I  know  that,"  he  said  ;  *^  I  think  of  nothing  else.  I 
think  shame  to  be  dangling  here  at  home  and  going 
tiirough  with  this  foolery  of  education,  while  others,  no 
older  than  myself,  are  in  the  field." 

''  I  cannot  blame  you,"  said  I.  "I  have  felt  the  same 
myself." 

"  There  are — there  are  no  troops,  are  there,  quite  so 
good  as  ours  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  AYell,"  said  I,  ^'  there  is  a  point  about  them  :  they 
have  a  defect, — they  are  not  to  be  trusted  in  a  retreat.  I 
have  seen  them  behave  very  ill  in  a  retreat." 

'^I  believe  that  is  our  national  character/^  he  said — God 
forgive  him  ! — Avith  an  air  of  pride. 

''  I  have  seen  your  national  character  running  away  at 
least,  and  had  the  honour  to  run  after  it  !  "  rose  to  my  lips, 
but  I  was  not  so  ill  advised  as  to  give  it  utterance.  Every 
one  should  be  flattered,  but  boys  and  women  without  stint ; 
and  I  put  in  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  narrating  to  him  tales 
of  British  heroism,  for  which  I  should  not  like  to  engage 
that  they  were  all  true. 

"lam  quite  surprised,"  he  said  at  last.  "People  tell 
you  the  French  are  insincere.  Now,  I  think  your  sin- 
cerity is  beautiful.  I  think  you  have  a  noble  character. 
I  admire  you  very  much.  I  am  very  grateful  for  your 
kindness  to — to  one  so  young,"  and  he  offered  me  his 
hand. 

"  I  shall  see  you  again  soon  ?  "  said  I. 


ST.    IVES  IS   SHOWN   A   HOUSE  49 

"  0,  now  !  Yes,  very  soon,"  said  he.  "  I— I  wish  to 
tell  yon.  I  would  not  let  Flora — Miss  Gilchrist,  I  mean- 
come  to-day.  I  wished  to  see  more  of  you  myself.  I  trust 
you  are  not  offended  :  you  know,  one  should  be  careful 
about  strangers." 

I  approved  his  caution,  and  he  took  himself  away  :  leav- 
ing me  in  a  mixture  of  contrarious  feelings,  part  ashamed 
to  have  played  on  one  so  gullible,  part  raging  that  I  should 
have  burned  so  much  incense  before  the  vanity  of  Eng- 
land ;  yet,  in  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  delighted  to  think 
I  had  made  a  friend — or,  at  least,  begun  to  make  a  friend 
— of  Flora's  brother. 

As  I  had  half  expected,  both  made  their  appearance  the 
next  day,  I  struck  so  fine  a  shade  betwixt  the  pride  that 
is  alloAved  to  soldiers  and  the  sorrowful  humility  that  befits 
a  captive,  that  I  declare,  as  I  went  to  meet  them,  I  might 
have  afforded  a  subject  for  a  painter.  So  much  was  high 
comedy,  I  must  confess  ;  but  so  soon  as  my  eyes  lighted 
full  on  her  dark  face  and  eloquent  eyes,  the  blood  leaped 
into  my  cheeks — and  that  was  nature  !  I  thanked  them, 
but  not  the  least  with  exultation  ;  it  was  my  cue  to  be 
mournful,  and  to  take  the  pair  of  them  as  one. 

''  I  have  been  thinking,"  I  said,  '^  you  have  been  so  good 
to  me,  both  of  you,  stranger  and  prisoner  as  I  am,  that  I 
have  been  thinking  how  I  could  testify  to  my  gratitude. 
It  may  seem  a  strange  subject  for  a  confidence,  but  there  is 
actually  no  one  here,  even  of  my  comrades,  that  knows  me 
by  my  name  and  title.  By  these  I  am  called  plain  Champ- 1 
divers,  a  name  to  which  I  have  a  right,  but  not  the  name 
which  I  should  bear,  and  which  (but  a  little  while  ago)  I 
must  hide  like  a  crime.  Miss  Flora,  suffer  me  to  present 
to  you  the  Vicomte  Anne  de  Keroual  de  Saint- Yves,  a 
private  soldier." 

"  I  knew  it ! "  cried  the  boy  ;  "  I  kjiew  he  was  a  noble  ! " 
4 


50  ST.    IVES 

And  I  thought  the  eyes  of  Miss  Flora  said  the  same,  but 
more  persuasively.  All  through  this  interview  she  kept 
them  on  the  ground,  or  only  gave  them  to  me  for  a  mo- 
ment at  a  time,  and  with  a  serious  sweetness. 

"  You  may  conceive,  my  friends,  that  this  is  rather  a 
painful  confession,"  I  continued.  "  To  stand  here  before 
you,  vanquished,  a  prisoner  in  a  fortress,  and  take  my  own 
name  upon  my  lips,  is  painful  to  the  proud.  And  yet  I 
Avished  that  you  should  know  me.  Long  after  this,  we  may 
yet  hear  of  one  another — perhaps  Mr.  Gilchrist  and  mj^self 
in  the  field  and  from  opposing  camps— and  it  would  be  a 
pity  if  we  heard  and  did  not  recognise." 

They  were  both  moved  ;  and  began  at  once  to  press 
upon  me  offers  of  service,  such  as  to  lend  me  books,  get 
me  tobacco  if  I  used  it,  and  the  like.  This  would  have 
been  all  mighty  welcome,  before  the  tunnel  was  ready. 
Now  it  signified  no  more  to  me  than  to  offer  the  transi- 
tion I  required. 

"  My  dear  friends,"  I  said — "  for  you  must  allow  me  to 
call  you  that,  who  have  no  others  within  so  many  hun- 
dred leagues — perhaps  you  will  think  me  fanciful  and  sen- 
timental ;  and  perhaps  indeed  I  am  ;  but  there  is  one  ser- 
vice that  I  would  beg  of  you  before  all  others.  You  see 
me  set  here  on  the  top  of  this  rock  in  the  midst  of  your 
city.  Even  with  what  liberty  I  have,  I  have  the  opportu- 
nity to  see  a  myriad  roofs,  and  I  dare  to  say  thirty  leagues 
of  sea  and  land.  All  this  hostile  !  Under  all  these  roofs 
my  enemies  dwell ;  wherever  I  see  the  smoke  of  a  house 
rising,  I  must  tell  myself  that  some  one  sits  before  the  chim.- 
ney  and  reads  with  joy  of  our  reverses.  Pardon  me,  dear 
friends,  I  know  that  you  must  do  the  same,  and  I  do  not 
grudge  at  it !  With  you,  it  is  all  different.  Show  me  your 
house,  then,  were  it  only  the  chimney,  or,  if  that  be  not 
visible,  the  quarter  of  the  town  in  which  it  lies  !    So,  when 


ST.    IVES   IS   SHOWN   A   HOUSE  61 

I  look  all  about  me,  I  shall  be  able  to  say  :  '  There  is 
one  house  in  luhich  I  am  not  quite  unkindly  thought 
ofr' 

Flora  stood  a  moment. 

''  It  is  a  pretty  thought,"  said  she,  ''  and  as  far  as  re- 
gards Konald  and  myself,  a  true  one.  Come,  I  believe  I 
can  show  you  the  very  smoke  out  of  our  chimney." 

So  saying,  she  carried  me  round  the  battlements  towards 
the  opposite  or  southern  side  of  the  fortress,  and  indeed  to 
a  bastion  almost  immediately  overlooking  the  place  of  our 
projected  flight.  Thence  we  had  a  view  of  some  fore- 
shortened suburbs  at  our  feet,  and  beyond  of  a  green,  open, 
and  irregular  country  rising  towards  the  Pentland  Hills. 
The  face  of  one  of  these  summits  (say  two  leagues  from 
where  we  stood)  is  marked  with  a  procession  of  white 
scars.     And  to  this  she  directed  my  attention. 

''  You  see  these  marks  ?  "*  she  said.  ''  We  call  them  the 
Seven  Sisters.  Follow  a  little  lower  with  your  eye,  and 
you  will  see  a  fold  of  the  hill,  the  tops  of  some  trees,  and 
a  tail  of  smoke  out  of  the  midst  of  them.  That  is  Swan- 
ston  Cottage,  where  my  brother  and  I  are  living  with  my 
aunt.  If  it  gives  you  pleasure  to  see  it,  I  am  glad.  We, 
too,  can  see  the  castle  from  a  corner  in  the  garden,  and  we 
go  there  in  the  morning  often — do  we  not,  Eonald  ? — and 
we  think  of  you,  M.  de  Saint-Yves  ;  but  I  am  afraid  it 
does  not  altogether  make  us  glad.^' 

'^  Mademoiselle  ! "  said  I,  and  indeed  my  voice  was 
scarce  under  command,  "  if  you  knew  how  your  generous 
words — how  even  the  sight  of  you — relieved  the  horrors  of 
this  place,  I  believe,  I  hope,  I  know,  you  would  be  glad. 
I  will  come  here  daily  and  look  at  that  dear  chimney  and 
these  green  hills,  and  bless  you  from  the  heart,  and  dedi- 
cate to  you  the  prayers  of  this  poor  sinner.  Ah  !  I  do  not 
say  they  can  avail  ! " 


52  ST.   IVES 

*•  Who  can  say  that,  M.  de  Saint- Yves  V^  she  said,  softly. 
"  But  I  think  it  is  time  we  should  be  going." 

"  High  time,"  said  Konald,  whom  (to  say  the  truth)  I 
had  a  little  forgotten. 

On  the  way  back,  as  I  was  laying  myself  out  to  recover 
lost  ground  with  the  youth,  and  to  obliterate,  if  possible, 
the  memory  of  my  last  and  somewhat  too  fervent  speech, 
who  should  come  past  us  but  the  major  ?  I  had  to  stand 
aside  and  salute  as  he  went  by,  but  his  eyes  appeared  en- 
tirely occupied  with  Flora. 

**^  Who  is  that  man  ?  "  she  asked. 

^^  He  is  a  friend  of  mine,"  said  I.  '*  I  give  him  lessons 
in  French,  and  he  has  been  very  kind  to  me." 

*' He  stared,"  she  said, — "1  do  not  say,  rudely;  but 
why  should  he  stare  ?" 

^'^If  you  do  not  wish  to  be  stared  at,  mademoiselle,  suf- 
fer me  to  recommend  a  veil,"  said  I. 

She  looked  at  me  with  what  seemed  anger.  ''  I  tell  you 
the  man  stared,"  she  said. 

And  Ronald  added  :  ^'0,  I  don't  think  he  meant  any 
harm.  I  suppose  he  was  just  surprised  to  see  us  walking 
about  with  a  pr — with  M.  Saint- Yves." 

But  the  next  morning,  when  I  went  to  Ohevenix's  rooms, 
and  after  I  had  dutifully  corrected  his  exercise — ^'  I  com- 
pliment you  on  your  taste,"  said  he  to  me. 

^'  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  "  said  I. 

'*  0  no,  I  beg  yours,"  said  he.  ^^You  understand  me 
perfectly,  just  as  I  do  you." 

I  murmured  something  about  enigmas. 

*' Well,  shall  I  give  you  the  key  to  the  enigma  ?"  said 
he,  leaning  back.  ^'  That  was  the  young  lady  whom  Go- 
guelat  insulted  and  whom  you  avenged.  I  do  not  blame 
you.     She  is  a  heavenly  creature." 

''  With  all  my  heart,  to  the  last  of  it !"  said  I.     '^  And 


ST.    IVES   IS   SHOWN   A   HOUSE  53 

to  the  first  also,  if  it  amuses  you  !  You  are  become  so  very 
acute  of  late  that  I  suppose  you  must  have  your  own 
way." 

'^  What  is  her  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Now,  really  ! "  said  I.  "  Do  you  think  it  likely  she 
has  told  me  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  certain,"  said  he. 

I  could  not  restrain  my  laughter.  "  Well,  then,  do  you 
':hink  it  likely  I  would  tell  you  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  he.     "^  But  come,  to  our  lesson  ! " 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   ESCAPE 

The  time  for  our  escape  drew  near,  and  the  nearer  it 
came  the  less  we  seemed  to  enjoy  the  prospect.  There  is 
but  one  side  on  which  this  castle  can  be  left  either  with 
dignity  or  safety  ;  but  as  there  is  the  main  gate  and  guard, 
and  the  chief  street  of  the  upper  city,  it  is  not  to  be 
thought  of  by  escaping  prisoners.  In  all  other  directions 
an  abominable  precipice  surrounds  it,  down  the  face  of 
which  (if  anywhere  at  all)  we  must  regain  our  liberty. 
By  our  concurrent  labours  in  many  a  dark  night,  working 
with  the  most  anxious  precautions  against  noise,  we  had 
made  out  to  pierce  below  the  curtain  about  the  south-west 
corner,  in  a  place  they  call  the  DeviVs  Elbow.  I  have 
never  met  that  celebrity ;  nor  (if  the  rest  of  him  at  all 
comes  up  to  what  they  called  his  elbow)  have  I  the  least 
desire  of  his  acquaintance.  From  the  heel  of  the  masonry, 
the  rascally,  breakneck  precipice  descended  sheer  among 
waste  lands,  scattered  suburbs  of  the  city,  and  houses  in 
the  building.  I  had  never  the  heart  to  look  for  any  length 
of  time — the  thought  that  I  must  make  the  descent  in  per- 
son some  dark  night  robbing  me  of  breath  ;  and,  indeed, 
on  anybody  not  a  seaman  or  a  steeple-jack,  the  mere  sight 
of  the  DeviVs  Elhow  wrought  like  an  emetic. 

I  don't  know  where  the  rope  was  got,  and  doubt  if  I 
much  cared.  It  was  not  that  which  gravelled  me,  but 
whether,  now  that  we  had  it,  it  would  serve  our  turn.     Its 

54 


THE  ESCAPE  55 

length,  indeed,  we  made  a  shift  to  fathom  out ;  but  who 
was  to  tell  us  how  that  length  compared  with  the  way  we 
had  to  go  ?  Day  after  day,  there  would  be  always  some  of 
us  stolen  out  to  the  Devil's  Elboio  and  making  estimates 
of  the  descent,  whether  by  a  bare  guess  or  the  dropping  of 
stones.  A  private  of  pioneers  remembered  the  formula  for 
that — or  else  remembered  part  of  it  and  obligingly  in- 
vented the  remainder.  I  had  never  any  real  confidence  in 
that  formula  ;  and  even  had  we  got  it  from  a  book,  there 
were  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  application  that  miglit 
have  daunted  Archimedes.  We  durst  not  drop  any  consid- 
erable pebble  lest  the  sentinels  should  hear,  and  those  that 
we  dropped  we  could  not  hear  ourselves.  We  had  never  a 
watch — or  none  tliat  had  a  second  hand  ;  and  though  every 
one  of  us  could  guess  a  second  to  a  nicety,  all  somehow 
guessed  it  differently.  In  short,  if  any  two  set  forth  upon 
this  enterprise,  they  invariably  returned  with  two  opinions, 
and  often  with  a  black  eye  in  the  bargain.  I  looked  on 
upon  these  proceedings,  although  not  without  laughter, 
yet  with  impatience  and  disgust.  I  am  one  that  cannot 
bear  to  see  things  botched  or  gone  upon  with  ignorance  ; 
and  the  thought  that  some  poor  devil  was  to  hazard  his 
bones  upon  such  premises,  revolted  me.  Had  I  guessed 
tlie  name  of  that  unhappy  first  adventurer,  my  sentiments 
might  have  been  livelier  still. 

The  designation  of  this  personage  was  indeed  all  that 
remained  for  us  to  do  ;  and  even  in  that  we  had  advanced 
so  far  that  the  lot  had  fallen  on  Shed  B.  It  liad  been  de- 
termined to  mingle  the  bitter  and  the  sweet ;  and  whoever 
went  down  first,  the  whole  of  his  shed-mates  were  to  follow 
next  in  order.  This  caused  a  good  deal  of  joy  in  Shed  B, 
and  would  have  caused  more  if  it  had  not  still  remained  to 
choose  our  pioneer.  In  view  of  the  ambiguity  in  which 
we  lay  as  to  the  length  of  the  rope  and  the  height  of  the 


56  ST.   IVES 

precipice — and  that  this  gentleman  was  to  climb  down 
from  fifty  to  seventy  fathoms  on  a  pitchy  night,  on  a  rope 
entirely  free,  and  with  not  so  much  as  an  infant  child 
to  steady  it  at  the  bottom,  a  little  backwardness  was  per- 
haps excusable.  But  it  was,  in  our  case,  more  than  a  lit- 
tle. The  truth  is,  we  were  all  womanish  fellows  about  a 
height ;  and  I  have  myself  been  put,  more  than  once,  hors 
de  comhat  by  a  less  affair  than  the  rock  of  Edinburgh 
Castle. 

We  discussed  it  in  the  dark  and  between  the  passage  of 
the  rounds  ;  and  it  was  impossible  for  any  body  of  men  to 
show  a  less  adventurous  spirit.  I  am  sure  some  of  us,  and 
myself  first  among  the  number,  regretted  Goguelat.  Some 
were  persuaded  it  was  safe,  and  could  prove  the  same  by 
argument ;  but  if  they  had  good  reasons  why  some  one  else 
should  make  the  trial,  they  had  better  still  why  it  should 
not  be  themselves.  Others,  again,  condemned  the  whole 
idea  as  insane  ;  among  these,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  a 
seaman  of  the  fleet ;  who  was  the  most  disspiriting  of  all. 
The  height,  he  reminded  us,  was  greater  than  the  tallest 
ship's  mast,  the  rope  entirely  free  ;  and  he  as  good  as  de- 
fied the  boldest  and  strongest  to  succeed.  We  were  re- 
lieved from  this  dead-lock  by  our  sergeant-major  of  dra- 
goons. 

''^Comrades,'' said  he,  '^1  believe  I  rank  you  all  ;  and 
for  that  reason,  if  3^ou  really  wish  it,  I  will  be  the  first 
myself.  At  the  same  time,  you  are  to  consider  what  the 
chances  are  that  I  may  prove  to  be  the  last,  as  well.  I  am 
no  longer  young — I  was  sixty  near  a  month  ago.  Since  I 
have  been  a  prisoner,  I  have  made  for  myself  a  little  le- 
dame.  My  arms  are  all  gone  to  fat.  And  you  must  prom- 
ise not  to  blame  me,  if  I  fall  and  play  the  devil  with  the 
whole  thing. 

^'  We  cannot  hear  of  such  a  thing  ! "  said  I.     "  M.  La- 


THE   ESCAPE  f)7 

clas  is  the  oldest  man  here  ;  aud,  as  such,  lie  should  be  the 
very  last  to  offer.     It  is  j^laiu,  we  must  draw  lots." 

*'  No,"  said  M.  Lacks  ;  ''  you  put  something  else  in  my 
head  !  There  is  one  here  who  owes  a  pretty  candle  to  the 
others,  for  they  have  kept  his  secret.  Besides,  the  rest  of 
us  are  only  rabble  ;  and  he  is  another  affair  altogether. 
Let  Champdivers — let  the  noble  go  the  first." 

I  confess  there  was  a  notable  j^ause  before  the  noble  in 
question  got  his  voice.  But  there  was  no  room  for  choice. 
I  had  been  so  ill-advised,  when  I  first  joined  the  regiment, 
as  to  take  ground  on  my  nobility.  I  had  been  often  ral- 
lied on  the  matter  in  the  ranks,  and  had  passed  under  the 
by-names  of  Monseigyieur  and  the  Marquis.  It  was  now 
needful  I  should  justify  myself  and  take  a  fair  revenge. 

Any  little  hesitation  I  may  have  felt  passed  entirely  un- 
noticed, from  the  lucky  incident  of  a  round  happening  at 
that  moment  to  go  by.  And  during  that  interval  of  si- 
lence there  occurred  something  that  sent  my  blood  to  the 
boil.  There  was  a  private  in  our  shed  called  Clausel,  a 
man  of  very  ugly  disposition.  He  had  made  one  of  the 
followers  of  Goguelat  ;  but,  whereas  Goguelat  had  always 
a  kind  of  monstrous  gaiety  about  him,  Clausel  was  no  less 
morose  than  he  was  evil-minded.  He  was  sometimes  called 
the  General,  and  sometimes  by  a  name  too  ill-mannered 
for  repetition.  As  we  all  sat  listening,  this  man's  hand 
was  laid  on  my  shoulder,  and  his  voice  whispered  in  my 
ear  :  "  If  you  don't  go,  I'll  have  you  hanged.  Marquis  V 

As  soon  as  the  round  was  past — "  Certainly,  gentlemen  !  " 
said  I.  ^'  I  will  give  you  a  lead,  with  all  the  pleasure  in 
the  world.  But,  first  of  all,  there  is  a  hound 'here  to  be 
punished.  M.  Clausel  has  just  insulted  me,  and  dishon- 
oured the  French  army  ;  and  I  demand  that  he  run  the 
gauntlet  of  this  shed." 

There  was  but  one  voice  asking  what  he  had  done,  and. 


58  ST.   IVES 

as  soon  as  I  had  told  them,  but  one  voice  agreeing  to  the 
punisliment.  The  General  was,  in  consequence,  extremely 
roughly  handled,  and  the  next  day  was  congratulated  by 
all  who  saw  him  on  his  nciv  decorations.  It  was  lucky  for 
us  that  he  was  one  of  the  prime  movers  and  believers  in  our 
project  of  escape,  or  he  had  certainly  revenged  himself  by 
a  denunciation.  As  for  his  feelings  towards  myself,  they 
appeared,  by  his  looks,  to  surpass  humanity  ;  and  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  give  him  a  wide  berth  in  the  future. 

Had  I  been  to  go  down  that  instant,  I  believe  I  could 
liave  carried  it  well.  But  it  was  already  too  late — the  day 
was  at  hand.  The  rest  had  still  to  be  summoned,  ^or 
was  this  the  extent  of  my  misfortune  ;  for  the  next  night, 
and  the  night  after,  were  adorned  with  a  perfect  galaxy  of 
stars,  and  showed  every  cat  that  stirred  in  a  quarter  of  a 
mile.  During  this  interval,  I  have  to  direct  your  sympa- 
thies on  the  Vicomte  de  Saint- Yves  !  All  addressed  me 
softly,  like  folk  round  a  sick-bed.  Our  Italian  corporal, 
wdio  had  got  a  dozen  of  oysters  from  a  fishwife,  laid  them 
at  my  feet,  as  though  I  were  a  Pagan  idol  ;  and  I  have 
never  since  been  wholly  at  my  ease  in  the  society  of  shell- 
fish. He  who  was  the  best  of  our  carvers  brought  me  a 
snuS-box,  which  he  had  just  completed,  and  which,  while 
it  was  yet  in  hand,  he  had  often  declared  he  would  not 
part  with  under  fifteen  dollars.  I  believe  the  piece  was 
worth  the  money  too  !  And  yet  the  voice  stuck  in  my 
throat  with  which  I  must  thank  him.  I  found  myself,  in 
a  word,  to  be  fed  up  like  a  prisoner  in  a  camp  of  anthro- 
pophagi, and  honoured  like  the  sacrificial  bull.  And 
what  with  these  annoyances,  and  the  risky  venture  imme- 
diately ahead,  I  found  my  part  a  trying  one  to  play. 

It  was  a  good  deal  of  a  relief  when  the  third  evening 
closed  about  the  castle  with  volumes  of  sea-fog.  The  lights 
of  Princes  Street  sometimes  disappeared,  sometimes  blinked 


THE  ESCAPE  59 

across  at  ns  no  brighter  than  the  eyes  of  cats  ;  and  five  steps 
from  one  of  the  hmterns  on  the  ramparts  it  was  ah-eady 
groping  dark.  AVe  made  haste  to  lie  down.  Had  our 
jailors  been  upon  the  watch,  they  must  have  observed  our 
conversation  to  die  out  unusually  soon.  Yet  I  doubt  if 
any  of  us  slept.  Each  lay  in  his  place,  tortured  at  once 
with  the  hope  of  liberty  and  the  fear  of  a  hateful  death. 
The  guard  call  sounded  ;  the  hum  of  the  town  declined  by 
little  and  little.  On  all  sides  of  us,  in  their  different  quar- 
ters, we  could  hear  the  watchmen  cry  the  hours  along  the 
street.  Often  enough,  during  my  stay  in  England,  have  I 
listened  to  these  gruff  or  broken  voices  ;  or  perhaps  goue 
to  my  window  when  I  lay  sleepless,  and  watched  the  old 
gentleman  hobble  by  upon  the  causeway  with  his  cape  and 
his  cap,  his  hanger  and  his  rattle.  It  was  ever  a  thought 
with  me  how  differently  that  cry  would  re-echo  in  the 
chamber  of  lovers,  beside  the  bed  of  death,  or  in  the  con- 
demned cell.  I  might  be  said  to  hear  it  that  night  myself 
in  the  condemned  cell  !  At  length  a  fellow  with  a  voice 
like  a  bulFs  began  to  roar  out  in  the  opposite  thoroughfare : 

"Past  yin  o'cloak,  and  a  dark,  haary  moarnin'." 

At  which  we  were  all  silently  afoot. 

As  I  stole  about  the  battlements  towards  the — gallows,  I 
was  about  to  write — the  sergeant-major,  perhaps  doubtful 
of  my  resolution,  kept  close  by  me,  and  occasionally  prof- 
fered the  most  indigestible  reassurances  in  my  ear.  At 
last  I  could  bear  them  no  longer. 

"Be  so  obliging  as  to  let  me  be  I  "  said  I.  "I  am 
neither  a  coward  nor  a  fool.  What  do  yoii  know  of 
whether  the  rope  be  long  enough  ?  But  I  shall  know  it 
in  ten  minutes  ! " 

The  good  old  fellow  laughed  in  his  moustache,  and  pat- 
ted me. 

It  was  all  very  well  to  show  the  disposition  of  my  temper 


60  ST.    IVES 

before  a  friend  alone  ;  before  my  assembled  comrades  the 
thing  had  to  go  handsomely.  It  was  then  my  time  to 
come  on  the  stage  ;  and  I  hope  I  took  it  handsomely. 

"  Now,  gentlemen/'  said  I,  ''  if  the  rope  is  ready,  here 
is  the  criminal ! " 

The  tunnel  was  cleared,  the  stake  driven,  the  rope  ex- 
tended. As  I  moved  forward  to  the  place,  many  of  my 
comrades  caught  me  by  the  hand  and  wrung  it,  an  atten- 
tion I  could  well  have  done  without. 

''  Keep  an  eye  on  Clausel  \"  I  whisi^ered  to  Lacks;  and 
with  that,  got  doAvn  on  my  elbows  and  knees,  took  the 
rope  in  both  hands,  and  worked  myself,  feet  foremost, 
through  the  tunnel.  When  the  earth  failed  under  my 
feet,  I  thought  my  heart  would  have  stopped ;  and  a  mo- 
ment after  I  was  demeaning  myself  in  mid-air  like  a 
drunken  jumping-jack.  I  have  never  been  a  model  of 
piety,  but  at  this  juncture  prayers  and  a  cold  sweat  burst 
from  me  simultaneously. 

The  line  was  knotted  at  intervals  of  eighteen  inches  ; 
and  to  the  inexpert  it  may  seem  as  if  it  should  have  been 
even  easy  to  descend.  The  trouble  was,  this  devil  of  a 
piece  of  rope  appeared  to  be  inspired,  not  with  life  alone, 
but  with  a  personal  malignity  against  myself.  It  turned  to 
the  one  side,  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then  spun  me  like 
a  toasting-jack  to  the  other ;  slipped  like  an  eel  from  the 
clasp  of  my  feet ;  kept  me  all  the  time  in  the  most  out- 
rageous fury  of  exertion ;  and  dashed  me  at  intervals 
against  the  face  of  the  rock.  I  had  no  eyes  to  see  with  ; 
and  I  doubt  if  there  was  anything  to  see  but  darkness.  I 
must  occasionally  have  caught  a  gasp  of  breath,  but  it  was 
quite  unconscious.  And  the  whole  forces  of  my  mind 
were  so  consumed  with  losing  hold  and  getting  it  again, 
that  I  could  scarce  have  told  whether  I  was  going  up  or 
coming  down. 


THE  ESCAPE  61 

Of  a  sudden  I  knocked  against  the  cliff  with  such  a 
thump  as  almost  bereft  me  of  my  sense  ;  and,  as  reason 
twinkled  back,  I  was  amazed  to  find  that  I  was  in  a  state 
of  rest,  that  the  face  of  the  precipice  here  inclined  out- 
wards at  an  angle  which  relieved  me  almost  wholly  of  the 
burthen  of  my  own  weight,  and  that  one  of  my  feet  was 
safely  planted  on  a  ledge.  I  drew  one  of  the  sweetest 
breaths  in  my  experience,  hugged  myself  against  the  rope, 
and  closed  my  eyes  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy  of  relief.  It  occurred 
to  me  next  to  see  how  far  I  was  advanced  on  my  unlucky 
journey,  a  point  on  which  I  had  not  a  shadow  of  a  guess.  I 
looked  up  :  there  was  nothing  above  me  but  the  blackness 
of  the  night  and  the  fog.  I  craned  timidly  forward  and 
looked  down.  There,  upon  a  floor  of  darkness,  I  beheld  a 
certain  pattern  of  hazy  lights,  some  of  them  aligned  as  in 
thoroughfares,  others  standing  apart  as  in  solitary  houses  ; 
and  before  I  could  well  realise  it,  or  had  in  the  least  esti- 
mated my  distance,  a  wave  of  nausea  and  vertigo  warned 
me  to  lie  back  and  close  my  eyes.  In  this  situation  I  had 
really  but  the  one  wish,  and  that  was  something  else  to 
think  of  I  Strange  to  say,  I  got  it  :  a  veil  was  torn  from 
my  mind,  and  I  saw  what  a  fool  I  was— what  fools  we  had 
all  been— and  that  I  had  no  business  to  be  thus  dangling 
between  earth  and  heaven  by  my  arms.  The  only  thing  to 
have  done  was  to  have  attached  me  to  a  rope  and  lowered 
me,  and  I  had  never  the  wit  to  see  it  till  that  moment  ! 

I  filled  my  lungs,  got  a  good  hold  on  my  rope,  and  once 
more  launched  myself  on  the  descent.  As  it  chanced,  the 
worst  of  the  danger  was  at  an  end,  and  I  was  so  fortunate 
as  to  be  never  again  exposed  to  any  violent  concussion. 
Soon  after  I  must  have  passed  within  a  little  distance  of  a 
bush  of  wallflower,  for  the  scent  of  it  came  over  me  with 
that  impression  of  reality  whicli  characterises  scents  in 
darkness.     This  made  me  a  second  landmark,   the  ledge 


62  ST.    IVES 

being  my  first.  I  began  accordingly  to  compute  intervals 
of  time  :  so  much  to  the  ledge,  so  much  again  to  the  wall- 
iiower,  so  much  more  below.  If  I  were  not  at  the  bottom 
of  the  rock,  I  calculated  I  must  be  near  indeed  to  the  end 
of  the  rope,  and  there  was  no  doubt  that  I  was  not  far  from 
the  end  of  my  own  resources.  I  began  to  be  light-headed 
and  to  be  tempted  to  let  go, — now  arguing  that  I  was  cer- 
tainly arrived  within  a  few  feet  of  the  level  and  could  safely 
risk  a  fall,  anon  persuaded  I  was  still  close  at  the  top  and 
it  was  idle  to  continue  longer  on  the  rock.  In  the  midst  of 
which  I  came  to  a  bearing  on  plain  ground,  and  had  nearly 
wept  aloud.  My  hands  were  as  good  as  flayed,  my  courage 
entirely  exhausted,  and,  what  with  the  long  strain  and  the 
sudden  relief,  my  limbs  shook  under  me  with  more  than 
the  violence  of  ague,  and  I  was  glad  to  clii-g  to  the  rope. 

But  this  was  no  time  to  give  way.  I  had  (by  God^s  sin- 
gle mercy)  got  myself  alive  out  of  that  fortress  ;  and  now 
I  had  to  try  to  get  the  otliers,  my  comrades.  There  was 
about  a  fathom  of  rope  to  spare  ;  I  got  it  by  the  end,  and 
searched  the  whole  ground  thoroughly  for  anything  to 
make  it  fast  to.  In  vain  :  the  ground  was  broken  and 
stony,  but  there  grew  not  there  so  much  as  a  bush  of 
furze. 

"Now  then,"  thought  I  to  myself,  '^Miere  begins  a  new 
lesson,  and  I  believe  it  will  prove  richer  than  the  first.  I 
am  not  strong  enough  to  keep  this  rope  extended.  If  I  do 
not  keep  it  extended  the  next  man  will  be  dashed  against 
the  precipice.  There  is  no  reason  why  he  should  have  my 
extravagant  good  luck.  I  see  no  reason  why  he  should  not 
fall — nor  any  place  for  him  to  fall  on  but  my  head." 

From  where  I  was  now  standing  there  was  occasionally 
visible,  as  the  fog  lightened,  a  lamp  in  one  of  the  barrack 
windows,  which  gave  me  a  measure  of  the  height  he  had 
to  fall  and  the  horrid  force  that  he  must  strike  me  with. 


THE  ESCAPE  63 

What  was  yet  worse,  we  had  agreed  to  do  without  signals  : 
every  so  many  minutes  by  Lachis'  watch  another  man  was 
to  be  started  from  the  battlements.  Now,  I  had  seemed  to 
myself  to  be  abont  half  an  hour  in  my  descent,  and  it 
seemed  near  as  long  again  that  I  waited,  straining  on  the 
rope,  for  my  next  comrade  to  begin.  I  began  to  be  afraid 
that  our  conspiracy  was  out,  that  my  friends  were  all 
secured,  and  that  I  should  pass  the  remainder  of  the  night, 
and  be  discovered  in  the  morning,  vainly  clinging  to  the 
rope's  end  like  a  hooked  fish  upon  an  angle.  I  could  not 
refrain,  at  this  ridiculous  image,  from  a  chuckle  of  laughter. 
And  the  next  moment  I  knew,  by  the  jerking  of  the  rope, 
that  my  friend  had  crawled  out  of  the  tunnel  and  was 
fairly  launched  on  his  descent.  It  appears  it  was  the  sailor 
who  had  insisted  on  succeeding  me  :  as  soon  as  my  con- 
tinued silence  had  assured  him  the  rope  was  long  enough, 
Gautier,  for  that  was  his  name,  had  forgot  his  former 
arguments,  and  shown  himself  so  extremely  forward,  that 
Laclas  had  given  way.  It  Avas  like  the  fellow,  who  had  no 
harm  in  him  beyond  an  instinctive  selfishness.  But  he  was 
like  to  have  paid  pretty  dearly  for  the  privilege.  Do  as  I 
would,  I  could  not  keep  the  rope  as  I  could  have  wished  it ; 
and  he  ended  at  last  by  falling  on  me  from  a  height  of 
several  yards,  so  that  we  both  rolled  together  on  the  ground. 
As  soon  as  he  could  breathe,  he  cursed  me  beyond  belief, 
wept  over  his  finger  which  he  had  broken,  and  cursed  me 
again.  I  bade  him  be  still  and  think  shame  to  himself  to 
be  so  great  a  cry-baby.  Did  he  not  hear  the  round  going 
by  above  ?  I  asked  ;  and  who  could  tell  but  what  the  noise 
of  his  fall  was  already  remarked,  and  the  sentinels  at  the 
very  moment  leaning  upon  the  battlements  to  listen  ? 

The  round,  however,  went  by,  and  nothing  was  dis- 
covered ;  the  th^'-d  man  came  to  the  ground  quite  easily  ; 
the  fourth  was,  o."  course,  child's  play ;  and  before  there 


64  ST.    IVES 

were  ten  of  us  collected,  it  seemed  to  me  that,  without  the 
least  injustice  to  my  comrades,  I  might  proceed  to  take  care 
of  myself. 

I  knew  their  plan  :  they  had  a  map  and  an  almanack, 
and  designed  for  Grangemouth,  where  they  were  to  steal  a 
sliip.  Suppose  them  to  do  so,  I  had  no  idea  they  were 
qualified  to  manage  it  after  it  was  stolen.  Their  whole 
escape,  indeed,  was  the  most  haphazard  thing  imaginable  ; 
only  the  impatience  of  captives  and  the  ignorance  of  pri- 
vate soldiers  would  have  entertained  so  misbegotten  a 
device  ;  and  though  I  played  the  good  comrade  and  worked 
with  them  upon  the  tunnel,  but  for  the  lawyer's  message  I 
should  have  let  them  go  without  me.  Well,  now  they  were 
beyond  my  help,  as  they  had  always  been  beyond  my  coun- 
selling ;  and,  without  word  said  or  leave  taken,  I  stole  out 
of  the  little  crowd.  It  is  true  I  would  rather  have  waited 
to  shake  hands  with  Laclas,  but  in  the  last  man  who  had 
descended  I  thought  I  recognised  Clausel,  and  since  the 
scene  in  the  shed  my  distrust  of  Clausel  was  perfect.  I 
believed  the  man  to  be  capable  of  any  infamy,  and  events 
have  since  shown  that  I  was  right. 


CHAPTER  VII 

SWAJ^^STON-   COTTAGE 

I  HAD  two  views.  The  first  was,  naturally,  to  get  clear 
of  Edinburgh  Castle  and  the  town,  to  say  nothing  of  my 
fellow-prisoners  ;  the  second  to  work  to  the  southward  so 
long  as  it  was  night,  and  be  near  Swanston  Cottage  by 
morning.  What  I  should  do  there  and  then,  I  had  no 
guess,  and  did  not  greatly  care,  being  a  devotee  of  a  couple 
of  divinities  called  Chance  and  Circumstance.  Prepare, 
if  possible ;  where  it  is  impossible,  work  straight  forward, 
and  keep  your  eyes  open  and  your  tongue  oiled.  Wit  and 
a  good  exterior — there  is  all  life  in  a  nutshell. 

I  had  at  first  a  rather  chequered  journey  :  got  involved 
in  gardens,  butted  into  houses,  and  had  once  even  the  mis- 
fortune to  awake  a  sleeping  family,  the  father  of  which,  as 
I  suppose,  menaced  me  from  the  window  with  a  blunder- 
buss. Altogether,  though  I  had  been  some  time  gone  from 
my  companions,  I  was  still  at  no  great  distance,  when  a 
miserable  accident  put  a  period  to  the  escape.  Of  a  sudden 
the  night  was  divided  by  a  scream.  This  was  followed  by  the 
sound  of  something  falling,  and  that  again  by  the  report 
of  a  musket  from  the  Castle  battlements.  It  was  strange 
to  hear  the  alarm  spread  through  the  city.  In  the  fortress 
drums  were  beat  and  a  bell  rung  backward.  On  all  hands 
the  watchmen  sprang  their  rattles.  Even  in  that  limbo  or 
no-man's-land  where  I  was  wandering,  lights  were  made  in 
the  houses  ;  sashes  were  flung  up  ;  I  could  hear  neighbour- 
5  §5 


66  ST.   IVES 

ing  families  converse  from  window  to  window,  and  at 
length  I  was  challenged  myself. 

''  Wha's  that  ?  "  cried  a  big  voice. 

I  could  see  it  proceeded  from  a  big  man  in  a  big  night- 
cap, leaning  from  a  one-pair  window  ;  and  as  I  was  not 
yet  abreast  of  his  house,  I  judged  it  was  more  wise  to  an- 
swer. This  was  not  the  first  time  I  had  had  to  stake  my 
fortunes  on  the  goodness  of  my  accent  in  a  foreign  tongue  ; 
and  I  have  always  found  the  moment  inspiriting,  as  a  gam- 
bler should.  Pulling  around  me  a  sort  of  great- coat  I  had 
made  of  my  blanket,  to  cover  my  sulphur-covered  livery, — 
''  A  friend  ! "  said  I. 

"  What  like's  all  this  collieshangie  ?"  said  he. 

I  had  never  heard  of  a  collieshangie  in  my  days,  but  with 
the  racket  all  about  us  in  the  city,  I  could  have  no  doubt  as 
to  the  man's  meaning. 

'^  I  do  not  know,  sir,  really,"'  said  I ;  "  but  I  suppose 
some  of  the  prisoners  will  have  escaped."'' 

''  Bedamned  ! "  says  he. 

"  0,  sir,  they  will  be  soon  taken,"  I  replied  :  "  it  has 
been  found  in  time.     Good  morning,  sir  !  " 

^^  Ye  walk  late,  sir  ?""  he  added. 

"  0,  surely  not/"  said  I,  with  a  laugh.  ''  Earlyish,  if 
you  like  I ""  which  brought  me  finally  beyond  him,  highly 
pleased  with  my  success. 

I  was  now  come  forth  on  a  good  thoroughfare,  which  led 
(as  well  as  I  could  judge)  in  my  direction.  It  brought  me 
almost  immediately  through  a  piece  of  street,  whence  I 
could  hear  close  by  the  springing  of  a  watchman's  rattle, 
and  where  I  suppose  a  sixth  part  of  the  windows  would  be 
open,  and  the  people,  in  all  sorts  of  night  gear,  talking 
with  a  kind  of  tragic  gusto  from  one  to  another.  Here, 
again,  I  must  run  the  gauntlet  of  a  half-dozen  questions, 
the  rattle  all  the  while  sounding  nearer ;  but  as  I  was  not 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE  67 

walking  inordinately  quick,  as  I  spoke  like  a  gentleman, 
and  the  lamps  were  too  dim  to  show  my  dress,  I  carried  it 
olf  once  more.  One  person,  indeed,  inquired  where  I  was 
off  to  at  that  hour. 

I  replied  vaguely  and  cheerfully,  and  as  I  escaped  at  one 
end  of  this  dangerous  pass  I  could  see  the  watchman's  lan- 
tern entering  by  the  other.  I  was  now  safe  on  a  dark  coun- 
try highway,  out  of  sight  of  lights  and  out  of  the  fear  of 
watchmen.  And  yet  I  had  not  gone  above  a  hundred  yards 
before  a  fellow  made  an  ugly  rush  at  me  from  the  roadside. 
I  avoided  him  with  a  leap,  and  stood  on  guard,  cursing  my 
empty  hands,  wondering  whether  I  had  to  do  with  an  offi- 
cer or  a  mere  footpad,  and  scarce  knowing  which  to  wish. 
My  assailant  stood  a  little  ;  in  the  thick  darkness  I  could  see 
him  bob  and  sidle  as  though  he  were  feinting  at  me  for  an 
advantageous  onfall.     Then  he  spoke. 

f ^  My  goo'  frien',''  says  he,  and  at  the  first  word  I  pricked 
my  ears,  ^'  my  goo'  frien',  will  you  oblishe  me  with  lil  nesh- 
ary  infamation  ?     Whish  roa'  t'  Cramond  ?  " 

I  laughed  out  clear  and  loud,  stepped  up  to  the  convivi- 
alist,  took  him  by  the  shoulders  and  faced  him  about. 
*'My  good  friend,"  said  I,  *^I  believe  I  know  what  is  best 
for  you  much  better  than  yourself,  and  may  God  forgive 
you  the  fright  you  have  given  me  !  There,  get  you  gone 
to  Edinburgh  ! "  And  I  gave  him  a  shove,  which  he  obeyed 
with  the  passive  agility  of  a  ball,  and  disappeared  incon- 
tinently in  the  darkness  down  the  road  by  which  I  had 
myself  come. 

Once  clear  of  this  foolish  fellow,  I  went  on  again  up  a 
gradual  hill,  descended  on  the  other  side  through  the 
houses  of  a  country  village,  and  came  at  last  to  the  bottom 
of  the  main  ascent  leading  to  the  Pentlands  and  my  des- 
tination. I  was  some  way  up  when  the  fog  began  to 
lighten  ;  a  little  farther,  and  I  stepped  by  degrees  into  a 


68  ST.   IVES 

clear  starry  night,  and  saw  in  front  of  me,  and  quite  dis- 
tinct, the  summits  of  the  Pentlands,  and  behind,  the  val- 
ley of  the  Forth  and  the  city  of  my  late  captivity  buried 
under  a  lake  of  vapour.  I  had  but  one  encounter — that  of 
a  farm-cart,  which  I  heard,  from  a  great  way  ahead  of  me, 
creaking  nearer  in  the  night,  and  which  passed  me  about 
the  point  of  dawn  like  a  thing  seen  in  a  dream,  with  two 
silent  figures  in  the  inside  nodding  to  the  horse's  steps.  I 
presume  they  were  asleep;  by  the  shawl  about  her  head 
and  shoulders,  one  of  them  should  be  a  woman.  Soon,  by 
concurrent  steps,  the  day  began  to  break  and  the  fog  to 
subside  and  roll  away.  The  east  grew  luminous  and  was 
barred  with  chilly  colours,  and  the  Castle  on  its  rock,  and 
the  spires  and  chimneys  of  the  upper  town,  took  gradual 
shape,  and  arose,  like  islands,  out  of  the  receding  cloud. 
All  about  me  was  still  and  sylvan  ;  the  road  mounting  and 
winding,  with  nowhere  a  sign  of  any  passenger,  the  birds 
chirping,  I  suppose  for  warmth,  the  boughs  of  the  trees 
knocking  together,  and  the  red  leaves  falling  in  the  wind. 
It  was  broad  day,  but  still  bitter  cold  and  the  sun  not  up, 
when  I  came  in  view  of  my  destination.  A  single  gable 
and  chimney  of  the  cottage  peeped  over  the  shoulder  of  the 
hill  ;  not  far  off,  and  a  trifle  higher  on  the  mountain,  a  tall 
old  whitewashed  farmhouse  stood  among  trees,  beside  a 
falling  brook  ;  beyond  were  rough  hills  of  pasture.  I  be- 
thought me  that  shepherd  folk  were  early  risers,  and  if  I 
were  once  seen  skulking  in  that  neighbourhood  it  might 
prove  the  ruin  of  my  prospects  ;  took  advantage  of  a  line 
of  hedge,  and  worked  myself  up  in  its  shadow  till  I  was 
come  under  the  garden  wall  of  my  friends'  house.  The 
cottage  was  a  little  quaint  place  of  many  rough-cast  gables 
and  grey  roofs.  It  had  something  the  air  of  a  rambling  in- 
finitesimal cathedral,  the  body  of  it  rising  in  the  midst  two 
storeys  high,  with  a  steep-pitched  roof,  and  sending  out 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE  69 

upon  all  hands  (as  it  were  chapter-houses,  chapels,  and 
transepts)  one-storeyed  and  dwarfish  projections.  To  add 
to  this  appearance,  it  was  grotesquely  decorated  with 
crockets  and  gargoyles,  ravislied  from  some  mediaeval 
church.  The  place  seemed  hidden  away,  being  not  only 
concealed  in  the  trees  of  the  garden,  but,  on  the  side  on 
which  I  approached  it,  buried  as  high 'as  the  eaves  by  the 
rising  of  the  ground.  About  the  walls  of  the  garden  there 
went  a  line  of  well-grown  elms  and  beeches,  the  first  entirely 
bare,  the  last  still  pretty  well  covered  with  red  leaves,  and 
the  centre  was  occupied  with  a  thicket  of  laurel  and  holly, 
in  which  I  could  see  arches  cut  and  paths  winding. 

I  was  now  within  hail  of  my  friends,  and  not  much  the 
better.  The  house  appeared  asleep  ;  yet  if  I  attempted  to 
wake  any  one,  I  had  no  guarantee  it  might  not  prove  either 
the  aunt  with  the  gold  eyeglasses  (whom  I  could  only  re- 
member with  trembling),  or  some  ass  of  a  servant-maid 
who  should  burst  out  screaming  at  sight  of  me.  Higher 
Tip  I  could  hear  and  see  a  shepherd  shouting  to  his  dogs 
and  striding  on  the  rough  sides  of  the  mountain,  and  it 
was  clear  I  must  get  to  cover  without  loss  of  time.  No 
doubt  the  holly  thickets  would  have  proved  a  very  suitable 
retreat,  but  there  was  mounted  on  the  wall  a  sort  of  sign- 
board not  uncommon  in  the  country  of  Great  Britain,  and 
very  damping  to  the  adventurous  :  "  Spring  Guns  and 
Man-Traps  was  the  legend  that  it  bore.  I  have  learned 
since  that  these  advertisements,  three  times  out  of  four, 
were  in  the  nature  of  Quaker  guns  on  a  disarmed  battery, 
but  I  had  not  learned  it  then,  and  even  so,  the  odds  would 
not  have  been  good  enough.  For  a  choice,  I  would  a  hun- 
dred times  sooner  be  returned  to  Edinburgh  Castle  and  my 
corner  in  the  bastion,  than  to  leave  my  foot  in  a  steel  tra]) 
or  have  to  digest  the  contents  of  an  automatic  blunderbuss. 
There  was  but  one  chance  left— that  Ronald  or  Flora  might 


70  ST.   IVES 

be  the  first  to  come  abroad  ;  and  in  order  to  profit  by  this 
chance  if  it  occurred,  I  got  me  on  the  cope  of  the  wall  in 
a  place  where  it  was  screened  by  the  thick  branches  of  a 
beech,  and  sat  there  waiting. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  the  sun  came  very  pleasantly  out. 
I  had  been  awake  all  night,  I  had  undergone  the  most  vio- 
lent agitations  of  mind  and  body,  and  it  is  not  so  much  to 
be  wondered  at,  as  it  was  exceedingly  unwise  and  fool- 
hardy, that  I  should  have  droj^ped  into  a  doze.  From  this 
I  awakened  to  the  characteristic  sound  of  digging,  looked 
doAvn,  and  saw  immediately  below  me  the  back  view  of  a  gar- 
dener in  a  stable  waistcoat.  Now  he  would  appear  steadily  im- 
mersed in  his  business ;  anon,  to  my  more  immediate  terror, 
he  would  straighten  his  back,  stretch  his  arms,  gaze  about  tlie 
otherwise  deserted  garden,  and  relish  a  deep  pinch  of  snuH*. 
It  was  my  first  thought  to  drop  from  the  Avail  apon  the 
other  side.  A  glance  sufficed  to  show  me  that  even  the  way 
by  which  I  had  come  was  now  cut  off,  and  the  field  behind 
me  already  occupied  by  a  couple  of  shepherds^  assistants 
and  a  score  or  two  of  sheep.  I  have  named  the  talismans 
on  which  I  habitually  depend,  but  here  was  a  conjuncture 
in  which  both  were  wholly  useless.  The  copestone  of  a 
wall  arrayed  with  broken  bottles  is  no  favourable  rostrum  , 
and  I  might  be  as  eloquent  as  Pitt,  and  as  fascinating  as 
Richelieu,  and  neither  the  gardener  nor  the  shepherd  lads 
would  care  a  halfpenny.  In  short,  there  was  no  escape 
possible  from  my  absurd  position  :  there  I  must  continue 
to  sit  until  one  or  other  of  my  neighbours  should  raise  his 
eyes  and  give  the  signal  for  my  capture. 

The  part  of  the  wall  on  which  (for  my  sins)  I  was  posted 
could  be  scarce  less  than  twelve  feet  high  on  the  inside  ; 
the  leaves  of  the  beech  which  made  a  fashion  of  sheltering 
me  were  already  partly  fallen  ;  and  I  was  thus  not  only 
perilously  exposed  myself,  but  enabled  to  command  some 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE  71 

part  of  the  garden  walks  and  (under  an  evergreen  arch)  tlie 
front  Lawn  and  windows  of  the  cottage.  For  long  nothing 
stirred  except  my  friend  with  the  spade ;  then  I  heard  the 
opening  of  a  sash  ;  and  presently  after  saw  Miss  Flora  ap- 
pear in  a  morning  wrapper  and  come  strolling  hitherward 
between  the  borders,  pausing  and  visiting  her  flowers — her- 
self as  fair.  There  was  a  friend;  here,  immediately  beneath 
me,  an  unknown  quantity — the  gardener  :  how  to  commu- 
nicate with  the  one  and  not  attract  the  notice  of  the  other? 
To  make  a  noise  was  out  of  the  question  ;  I  dared  scarce  to 
breathe.  I  held  myself  ready  to  make  a  gesture  as  soon  as 
she  should  look,  and  she  looked  in  every  joossible  direction 
but  the  one.  She  was  interested  in  the  vilest  tuft  of  chick- 
weed,  she  gazed  at  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  she  came 
even  immediately  below  me  and  conversed  on  the  most  fas- 
tidious topics  with  the  gardener  ;  but  to  the  top  of  that 
wall  she  would  not  dedicate  a  glance  !  At  last  she  began 
to  retrace  her  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  cottage  ;  where- 
upon, becoming  quite  desperate,  I  broke  off  a  piece  of 
plaster,  took  a  happy  aim,  and  hit  her  with  it  in  the  nape 
of  the  neck.  She  clapped  her  hand  to  the  place,  turned 
about,  looked  on  all  sides  for  an  exj^lanation,  and  spying 
me  (as  indeed  I  was  parting  the  branches  to  make  it  the 
more  easy),  half  uttered  and  half  swallowed  down  again 
a  cry  of  surprise. 

The  infernal  gardener  was  erect  upon  the  instant. 
*'  What's  your  wull,  miss  ?  "  said  he. 

Her  readiness  amazed  me.  She  had  already  turned  and 
was  gazing  in  the  opposite  direction.  '^  There's  a  child 
among  the  artichokes,"  she  said. 

''  The  Plagues  of  Egyp'  !  Pll  see  to  them  i  "  cried  the 
gardener  truculently,  and  with  a  hurried  waddle  disap- 
peared among  the  evergreens. 

That  moment  she  turned,  she  came  running  towards  me. 


72  ST.   IVES 

her  arms  stretcned  out,  her  face  incarnaamed  for  the  one 
moment  with  heavenly  blushes,  the  next  pale  as  death. 
"  Monsieur  de  Saint-Yves  ! "'  she  said. 

''  My  dear  young  lady,"  I  said,  '"this  is  the  damnedest 
liberty — I  know  it  !     But  what  else  was  I  to  do  ?  " 

'^  You  have  escaped  ? ''  said  she. 

*^If  you  call  this  escape,"  I  replied. 

*'  But  you  cannot  possibly  stop  there  ! "  she  cried. 

"I  know  it,"  said  I.     ''  And  where  am  I  to  go  ?" 

She  struck  her  hands  together.  *'  I  have  it !  "  she  ex- 
claimed. ^'Come  down  by  the  beech  trunk — you  must 
leave  no  footprint  in  the  border — quickly,  before  Robie 
can  get  back  !  I  am  the  hen-wife  here  :  I  keep  the  key  ; 
you  must  go  into  the  hen-house — for  the  moment. " 

I  was  by  her  side  at  once.  Both  cast  a  hasty  glance  at 
the  blank  windows  of  the  cottage  and  so  much  as  was  visible 
of  the  garden  alleys  ;  it  seemed  there  was  none  to  observe 
us.  She  caught  me  by  the  sleeve  and  ran.  It  was  no  time 
for^compliments  ;  hurry  breathed  upon  our  necks  ;  and  I 
ran  along  with  her  to  the  next  corner  of  the  garden,  where 
a  wired  court  and  a  board  hovel  standing  in  a  grove  of 
trees  advertised  my  place  of  refuge.  She  thrust  me  in 
without  a  word  ;  the  bulk  of  the  fowls  were  at  the  same 
time  emitted  ;  and  I  found  myself  the  next  moment  locked 
in  alone  with  half  a  dozen  sitting  hens.  In  the  twilight 
of  the  place  all  fixed  their  eyes  on  me  severely,  and  seemed 
to  upbraid  me  with  some  crying  impropriety.  Doubtless 
the  hen  has  always  a  puritanic  appearance,  although  (in  its 
own  behaviour)  I  could  never  observe  it  to  be  more  partic- 
ular than  its  neighbours.     But  conceive  a  British  hen  ! 


CHAPTEE   VIII 

THE  HEN-HOUSE 

I  WAS  half  an  lionr  at  least  in  the  society  of  these  dis- 
tressing bipeds,  and  alone  with  my  own  reflections  and 
necessities.  I  was  in  great  pain  of  my  flayed  hands,  and 
had  nothing  to  treat  them  with ;  I  was  hungry  and 
thirsty,  and  had  nothing  to  eat  or  to  drink  ;  I  was  thor- 
onghly  tired,  and  there  was  no  place  for  me  to  sit.  To 
be  sure  there  was  the  floor,  but  nothing  could  be  imag- 
ined less  inviting. 

At  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  my  good-humour 
was  restored.  The  key  rattled  in  the  lock,  and  Master 
Ronald  entered,  closed  the  door  behind  him,  and  leaned 
his  back  to  it. 

''I  say,  you  know  !  "  he  said,  and  shook  a  sullen  young 
head. 

^'^I  know  it's  a  liberty,"  said  I. 

"  It's  infernally  awkward  ;  my  position  is  infernally  em- 
barrassing," said  he. 

''Well,"  said  I,  ''and  what  do  you  think  of  mine  ?" 

This  seemed  to  pose  him  entirely,  and  he  remained  gaz- 
ing upon  me  with  a  convincing  air  of  youth  and  inno- 
cence.   I  could  have  laughed,  but  I  was  not  so  inhumane. 

"I  am  in  your  hands,"  said  I,  with  a  little  gesture. 
"  You  must  do  with  me  what  you  think  right." 

"Ah,  yes  !  "  he  cried  :  "  if  I  knew  !  " 

"  You  see/'  said  I,  "it  would  be  different  if  you  had  re- 

73 


74  ST.    IVES 

ceived  yonr  commission.  Properly  speaking,  yon  are  not 
yet  a  combatant  ;  I  have  ceased  to  be  one  ;  and  I  think  it 
arguable  that  we  are  just  in  the  position  of  one  ordinary 
gentleman  to  another,  where  friendship  usually  comes  be- 
fore the  law.  Observe,  I  only  say  argualle.  For  God's 
sake,  don't  think  I  wish  to  dictate  an  opinion.  These  are 
the  sort  of  nasty  little  businesses,  inseparable  from  war, 
which  every  gentleman  must  decide  for  himself.  If  I 
were  in  your  place " 

'^  Ay,  what  would  you  do,  then  ?  "  says  he. 

^'Upon  my  word,  I  do  not  know,''  said  I.  ''  Hesitate, 
as  you  are  doing,  I  believe." 

'^I  will  tell  you,"  he  said.  ^' I  have  a  kinsman,  and 
it  is  what  lie  would  think,  that  I  am  thinking.  It  is 
General  Graham  of  Lynedoch — Sir  Thomas  Graham.  I 
scarcely  know  him,  but  I  believe  I  admire  him  more  than 
I  do  God." 

''I  admire  him  a  good  deal  myself,"  said  I,  ''  and  have 
good  reason  to.  I  have  fought  with  him,  been  beaten, 
and  run  away.     Veni,  victus  sum,  evasi." 

''  AVhat ! "  he  cried.     "  You  were  at  Barossa  ?  " 

''  There  and  back,  which  many  could  not  say,"  said  I. 
''  It  was  a  pretty  affair  and  a  hot  one,  and  the  Spaniards 
behaved  abominably,  as  they  nsually  did  in  a  pitched  field  ; 
the  Marshal  Duke  of  Belluno  made  a  fool  of  himself,  and 
not  for  the  first  time  ;  and  your  friend  Sir  Thomas  had 
the  best  of  it,  so  far  as  there  was  any  best.  He  is  a  brave 
and  ready  officer." 

**  Now,  then,  you  will  understand  !  "  said  the  boy.  "  I 
wish  to  please  Sir  Thomas  :  what  would  he  do  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  can  tell  you  a  story,"  said  I,  ''  a  true  one  too, 
and  about  this  very  combat  of  Chiclana,  or  Barossa  as  you 
call  it.  I  was  in  the  Eighth  of  the  Line  ;  we  lost  the 
eagle  of  the  First  Battalion,  more  betoken,  but  it  cost  you 


THE   HEN-HOUSE  75 

dear.  Well,  we  had  repulsed  more  charges  than  I  care  to 
count,  when  your  87th  Regiment  came  on  at  a  foot's  pace, 
very  slow  but  very  steady ;  in  front  of  them  a  mounted 
officer,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  white-haired,  and  talking  very 
quietly  to  the  battalions.  Our  Major,  Vigo-Pioussillon,  set 
spurs  to  his  horse  and  galloped  out  to  sabre  him,  but  see- 
ing him  an  old  man,  very  handsome,  and  as  composed  as 
if  he  were  in  a  coffee-house,  lost  heart  and  galloped  Ijack 
again.  Only,  you  see,  they  had  been  very  close  together 
for  the  moment,  and  looked  each  other  in  the  eyes.  Soon 
after  the  Major  was  wounded,  taken  prisoner,  and  carried 
into  Cadiz.  One  fine  day  they  announced  to  him  the  visit 
of  the  General,  Sir  Thomas  Graham.  '  Well,  sir,'  said  the 
General,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  '  I  think  we  were  face 
to  face  upon  the  field.'     It  was  the  white-haired  officer  ! '' 

"  Ah  \"  cried  the  boy, — his  eyes  were  burning. 

"  Well,  and  here  is  the  point,''  I  continued.  ''  Sir 
Thomas  fed  the  Major  from  his  own  table  from  that  day, 
and  served  him  with  six  covers." 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  beautiful — a  beautiful  story,"  said  Eonald. 
"  And  yet  somehow  it  is  not  the  same — is  it  ?  " 

"  I  admit  it  freely,"  said  I. 

The  boy  stood  awhile  brooding.  "  Well,  I  take  my  risk 
of  it,"  he  cried.  ^'  I  believe  it's  treason  to  my  sovereign — 
I  believe  there  is  an  infamous  punishment  for  such  a  crime 
— and  yet  I'm  hanged  if  I  can  give  you  up." 

I  was  as  much  moved  as  he.  "  I  could  almost  beg  you 
to  do  otherwise,"  I  said.  "  I  was  a  brute  to  come  to  you, 
a  brute  and  a  coward.  You  are  a  noble  enemy  ;  you  will 
make  a  noble  soldier."  And  with  rather  a  happy  idea  of 
a  compliment  for  this  warlike  youth,  I  stood  up  straight 
and  gave  him  the  salute. 

He  was  for  a  moment  confused ;  his  face  flushed. 
'*  Well,  well,  I  must  be  getting  you  something  to  eat,  but 


76  ST.    IVES 

it  will  not  be  for  six/'  he  added,  with  a  smile  :  "  only 
what  we  can  get  smuggled  out.  There  is  my  aunt  in 
the  road,  you  see/'  and  he  locked  me  in  again  with  the 
indignant  hens. 

I  always  smile  when  I  recall  that  young  fellow  ;  and 
yet,  if  the  reader  were  to  smile  also,  I  should  feel  ashamed. 
if  my  son  shall  be  only  like  him  when  he  comes  to  that 
age,  it  will  be  a  brave  day  for  me  and  not  a  bad  one  for 
France. 

At  the  same  time  I  cannot  pretend  that  I  was  sorry 
when  his  sister  succeeded  in  his  place.  She  brought  me 
a  few  crusts  of  bread  and  a  jug  of  milk,  which  she  had 
handsomely  laced  with  whisky  after  the  Scottish  man- 
ner. 

^^I  am  so  sorry,"  she  said  :  ''I  dared  not  bring  you 
anything  more.  We  are  so  small  a  family,  and  my  aunt 
keeps  such  an  eye  upon  the  servants.  I  have  put  some 
whisky  in  the  milk — it  is  more  wholesome  so — and  with 
eggs  you  will  be  able  to  make  something  of  a  meal.  How 
many  eggs  will  you  be  wanting  to  that  milk  ?  f©r  I  must 
be  taking  the  others  to  my  aunt — that  is  my  excuse  for 
being  here.  I  should  think  three  or  four.  Do  you  know 
how  to  beat  them  in  ?  or  shall  I  do  it  ?  " 

Willing  to  detain  her  a  while  longer  in  the  hen-house,  I 
displayed  my  bleeding  palms ;  at  which  she  cried  out 
aloud. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Flora,  you  cannot  make  an  omelette 
without  breaking  eggs,"  said  I  ;  ''  and  it  is  no  bagatelle  to 
escape  from  Edinburgh  Castle.  One  of  us,  I  think,  was 
even  killed." 

"And  you  are  as  white  as  a  rag,  too,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  and  can  hardly  stand  I  Here  is  my  shawl,  sit  down  upon 
it  here  in  the  corner,  and  I  will  beat  your  eggs.  See,  I 
have  brought  a  fork  too  ;  I  should  have  been  a  good  per- 


THE  HEN-HOUSE  77 

son  to  take  care  of  Jacobites  or  Covenanters  in  old  days  ! 
Yon  shall  have  more  to  eat  this  evening ;  Ronald  is  to 
bring  it  yon  from  town.  We  have  money  enough,  although 
no  food  that  we  can  call  onr  own.  Ah,  if  Ronald  and  I 
kept  house,  you  should  not  be  lying  in  this  shed  !  lie 
admires  you  so  much.^^ 

^^  My  dear  friend,"  said  I,  ^'^for  God's  sake  do  not  em- 
barrass me  with  more  alms.  I  loved  to  receive  them  from 
that  hand,  so  long  as  they  were  needed ;  but  they  are  so 
no  more,  and  whatever  else  I  may  lack — and  I  lack  every- 
thing— it  is  not  money."'  I  pulled  out  my  sheaf  of  notes 
and  detached  the  top  one  :  it  was  written  for  ten  pounds, 
and  signed  by  that  very  famous  individual,  Abraham  New- 
lands.  "  Oblige  me,  as  you  would  like  me  to  oblige  your 
brother  if  the  parts  were  reversed,  and  take  this  note  for 
the  expenses.     I  shall  need  not  only  food,  but  clothes." 

^'  Lay  it  on  the  ground,"  said  she.  ''  I  must  not  stop 
my  beating." 

''^  You  are  not  offended  ?"  I  exclaimed. 

She  answered  me  by  a  look  that  was  a  reward  in  itself, 
and  seemed  to  imply  the  most  heavenly  offers  for  the  fut- 
ure. There  was  in  it  a  shadow  of  reproach,  and  such 
warmth  of  communicative  cordiality  as  left  me  speechless. 
I  watched  her  instead  till  her  hens'  milk  was  ready. 

^^Now,"  said  she,  ^^  taste  that." 

I  did  so,  and  swore  it  was  nectar.  She  collected  her 
eggs  and  crouched  in  front  of  me  to  watch  me  eat.  There 
was  about  this  tall  young  lady  at  the  moment  an  air  of 
motherliness  delicious  to  behold.  I  am  like  the  English 
general,  and  to  this  day  I  still  wonder  at  my  moderation. 

''What  sort  of  clothes  will  you  be  wanting  ? "  said  she. 

"  The  clothes  of  a  gentleman,"  said  I.  ''  Right  or 
wrong,  I  think  it  is  the  part  I  am  best  qualified  to  play. 
Mr.  St.  Ives  (for  that's  to  be  my  name  upon  the  journey) 


78  ST.    IVES 

I  conceive  as  rather  a  theatrical  figure,  and  his  make-np 
shoukl  be  to  match." 

"And  yet  tliere  is  a  difficulty,"  said  she.  "If  you  got 
coarse  clothes  the  fit  would  hardly  matter.  But  the  clothes 
of  a  fine  gentleman  —  0,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
these  should  fit !  And  above  all,  with  your  "—she  paused 
a  moment  —  "  to  our  ideas  somewhat  noticeable  man- 
ners." 

"  Ahis  for  my  poor  manners  !  "  said  I.  "  But,  my  dear 
friend  Flora,  these  little  noticeabilities  are  just  what  man- 
kind has  to  suffer  under.  Yourself,  you  see,  you're  very 
noticeable  even  when  you  come  in  a  crowd  to  visit  poor 
prisoners  in  the  Castle." 

I  was  afraid  I  should  frighten  my  good  angel  visitant 
away,  and  without  the  smallest  breath  of  pause  went  on  to 
add  a  few  directions  as  to  stuffs  and  colours. 

She  opened  big  eyes  upon  me.  "  0,  Mr.  St.  Ives  !  " 
she  cried — "  if  that  is  to  be  your  name — I  do  not  say  they 
would  not  be  becoming ;  but  for  a  journey,  do  you  think 
they  Avould  be  wise  ?  I  am  afraid  " — she  gave  a  pretty 
break  of  laughter — "1  am  afraid  they  would  be  daft- 
like  ! " 

"Well,  and  am  I  not  daft  ? "  I  asked  her. 

"I  do  begin  to  tliink  you  are,"  said  she. 

"  Tliere  it  is,  then  !  "  said  I.  "  I  have  been  long  enough 
a  figure  of  fun.  Can  you  not  feel  with  me  that  perhaps 
the  bitterest  thing  in  this  captivity  has  been  the  clothes  ? 
Make  me  a  captive — bind  me  with  chains  if  you  like — but 
let  me  be  still  myself.  You  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  be 
a  walking  travesty — among  foes,"  I  added,  bitterly. 

"  0,  but  you  are  too  unjust ! "  she  cried.  "  You  speak  as 
tliougli  any  one  ever  dreamed  of  laughing  at  you.  But  no 
one  did.  We  were  all  pained  to  the  heart.  Even  my  aunt 
— though  sometimes  I  do  think  she  was  not  quite  in  good 


THE  IIEN-HOUSE  79 

taste— you  shoald  have  seen  her  and  heard  her  at  home ! 
She  took  so  much  interest.  Every  patch  in  your  clothes 
made  us  sorry ;  it  should  have  been  a  sister's  work/' 

''  That  is  what  I  never  had — a  sister/'  said  I.  ^'  But 
since  you  say  that  I  did  not  make  you  laugh " 

"  0,  Mr.  St.  Ives  !  never  !  "  she  exclaimed.  ^'  Not  for  one 
moment.     It  was  all  too  sad.     To  see  a  gentleman " 

^'  In  the  clothes  of  a  harlequin,  and  begging  ?  "  I  suo-- 
gested. 

"  To  see  a  gentleman  in  distress,  and  nobly  supporting 
it/"  she  said. 

*'  And  do  you  not  understand,  my  fair  foe,"  said  I,  "  that 
even  if  all  were  as  you  say — even  if  you  had  thought  my 
travesty  were  becoming — I  should  be  only  the  more  anx- 
ious, for  my  sake,  for  my  country's  sake,  and  for  the  sake 
of  your  kindness,  that  you  should  see  him  whom  you  have 
helped  as  God  meant  him  to  be  seen  ?  that  you  should 
have  something  to  remember  him  by  at  least  more  charac- 
teristic than  a  misfitting  sulphur-yellow  suit,  and  half  a 
week's  beard  ?  " 

"  You  think  a  great  deal  too  much  of  clothes,"  she  said. 
''I  am  not  that  kind  of  girl." 

"  And  I'm  afraid  I  am  that  kind  of  a  man,"  said  I. 
"  But  do  not  think  of  me  too  harshly  for  that.  I  talked 
just  now  of  something  to  remember  by.  I  have  many  of 
them  myself,  of  these  beautiful  reminders,  of  these  keep- 
sakes, that  I  cannot  be  parted  from  until  I  lose  memory 
and  life.  Many  of  them  are  great  things,  many  of  them 
are  high  virtues— charity,  mercy,  faith.  But  some  of  them 
are  trivial  enough.  Miss  Flora,  do  you  remember  the  day 
that  I  first  saw  you,  the  day  of  the  strong  east  wind  ? 
Miss  Flora,  shall  I  tell  you  what  you  wore  ?" 

We  had  both  risen  to  our  feet,  and  she  had  her  hand 
already  on  the  door  to  go.     Perhaps  this  attitude  embol- 


80  ST.    IVES 


dened  me  to  profit  by  the  last  seconds  of  onr  interview  ;  and 
it  certainly  rendered  her  escape  the  more  easy. 

''  0,  you  are  too  romantic  ! ''  she  said,  laughing  ;  and 
with  that  my  sun  was  blown  out,  my  enchantress  had  fled 
away,  and  I  was  again  left  alone  in  the  twilight  with  the 
lady  hens. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THKEE   13   COMPANY,    AND   FOUR   NONE 

The  rest  of  the  day  I  slept  in  the  corner  of  the  hen- 
house upon  Flora's  shawl.  Nor  did  I  awake  until  a  light 
shone  suddenly  in  my  eyes,  and  starting  up  with  a  gasp 
(for,  indeed,  at  the  moment  I  dreamed  I  was  still  swinging 
from  the  Castle  battlements)  I  found  Ronald  bending 
over  me  with  a  lantern.  It  appeared  it  was  past  midnight, 
that  I  had  slept  about  sixteen  hours,  and  that  Flora  had 
returned  her  poultry  to  the  shed  and  I  had  heard  her  not. 
I  could  not  but  wonder  if  she  had  stooped  to  look  at  me  as 
I  slept.  The  puritan  hens  now  slept  irremediably  ;  and 
being  cheered  with  the  promise  of  supper  I  wished  them 
an  ironical  good-night,  and  was  lighted  across  the  garden 
and  noiselessly  admitted  to  a  bedroom  on  the  ground  floor 
of  the  cottage.  There  I  found  soap,  water,  razors—^- 
offered  me  diffidently  by  my  beardless  host — and  an  out- 
fit of  new  clothes.  To  be  shaved  again  without  depend- 
ing on  the  barber  of  the  gaol  was  a  source  of  a  delicious,  if 
a  childish  joy.  My  hair  was  sadly  too  long,  but  I  was  none 
so  unwise  as  to  make  an  attempt  on  it  myself.  And,  in- 
deed, I  thought  it  did  not  wholly  misbecome  me  as  it  was, 
being  by  nature  curly.  The  clothes  were  about  as  good  as 
I  expected.  The  waistcoat  was  of  toilenet,  a  pretty  piece, 
the  trousers  of  fine  kerseymere,  and  the  coat  sat  extraor- 
dinarily well.  Altogether,  when  I  beheld  this  changeling 
in  the  glass,  I  kissed  my  hand  to  him. 
6  81 


82  ST.   IVES 

^'  My  dear  fellow/^  said  I,  "  have  yon  no  scent  7" 

"  Good  God^  no  ! ''  cried  Eonald.  ''  What  do  yon  want 
with  scent  ?  " 

^'  Capital  thing  on  a  campaign,"  said  I.  '^  Bnt  I  can  do 
withont." 

I  was  now  led,  with  the  same  precantions  against  noise, 
into  the  little  bow-windowed  dining-room  of  the  cottage. 
The  shutters  were  up,  the  lamp  guiltily  turned  low  ;  the 
beautiful  Flora  greeted  me  in  a  whisper  ;  and  when  I  was 
set  down  to  table,  the  pair  proceeded  to  help  me  with  pre- 
cautions that  might  have  seemed  excessive  in  the  Ear  of 
Dionysius. 

''  She  sleeps  up  there, ""  observed  the  boy,  pointing  to 
the  ceiling  ;  and  the  knowledge  that  I  was  so  imminently 
near  to  the  resting-place  of  that  gold  eyeglass  touched  even 
myself  with  some  uneasiness. 

Our  excellent  youth  had  imported  from  the  city  a  meat 
pie,  and  I  was  glad  to  find  it  flanked  with  a  decanter  of 
really  admirable  wine  of  Oporto.  While  I  ate,  Ronald  en- 
tertained me  with  the  news  of  the  city,  which  had  naturally 
rung  all  day  with  our  escape  :  troops  and  mounted  mes- 
sengers had  followed  each  other  forth  at  all  hours  and  in  all 
directions  ;  but  according  to  the  last  intelligence  no  recapt- 
ure had  been  made.  Opinion  in  town  was  very  favourable 
to  us,  our  courage  was  applauded,  and  many  professed  regret 
that  our  ultimate  chance  of  escape  should  be  so  small.  The 
man  who  had  fallen  was  one  Sombref ,  a  peasant ;  he  was  one 
who  slept  in  a  different  part  of  the  Castle ;  and  I  was  thus 
assured  that  the  whole  of  my  former  companions  had  at- 
tained their  liberty,  and  Shed  A  was  untenanted. 

From  this  we  wandered  insensibly  into  other  topics.  It 
is  'impossible  to  exaggerate  the  pleasure  I  took  to  be  thus 
sitting  at  the  same  table  with  Flora,  in  the  clothes  of  a 
gentleman,  at  liberty  and  in   the  full  possession  of  my 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE     83 

spirits  and  resources  ;  of  all  of  which  I  had  need,  because 
it  was  necessary  that  I  should  support  at  the  same  time 
two  opposite  characters,  and  at  once  play  the  cavalier  and 
lively  soldier  for  the  eyes  of  Ronald,  and  to  the  ears  of 
Flora  maintain  the  same  profound  and  sentimental  note 
that  I  had  already  sounded.  Certainly  there  are  days 
when  all  goes  well  with  a  man  ;  when  his  wit,  his  diges- 
tion, his  mistress  are  in  a  conspiracy  to  spoil  him,  and  even 
the  weather  smiles  upon  his  wishes.  I  will  only  say  of  my- 
self upon  that  evening  that  I  surpassed  my  expectations, 
and  was  privileged  to  delight  my  hosts.  Little  by  little 
they  forgot  their  terrors  and  I  my  caution  ;  until  at  hist 
we  were  brought  back  to  earth  by  a  catastrophe  that  might 
very  easily  have  been  foreseen,  but  was  not  the  less  aston- 
ishing to  us  when  it  occurred. 

I  had  filled  all  the  glasses.  ''I  have  a  toast  to  propose, '' 
I  whispered,  ^'  or  rather  three,  but  all  so  inextricably  in- 
terwoven that  they  will  not  bear  dividing.  I  wish  first  to 
drink  to  the  health  of  a  brave  and  therefore  a  generous  en- 
emy. He  found  me  disarmed,  a  fugitive  and  helpless. 
Like  the  lion,  he  disdained  so  poor  a  triumph  ;  and  when 
he  might  have  vindicated  an  easy  valour,  he  preferred  to 
make  a  friend.  I  wish  that  we  should  next  drink  to  a 
fairer  and  a  more  tender  foe.  She  found  me  in  ^^rison  ; 
she  cheered  me  tvith  a  priceless  sympathy  ;  what  she  has 
done  since,  I  know  she  has  done  in  mercy,  and  I  only  pray 
— I  dare  scarce  hope — her  mercy  may  prove  to  have  been 
merciful.  And  I  wish  to  conjoin  with  these,  for  the  first 
and  perhaps  the  last  time,  the  health — and  I  fear  I  may 
already  say  the  memory — of  one  who  has  fought,  not 
always  without  success,  against  the  soldiers  of  your  nation  ; 
but  who  came  here,  vanquished  already,  only  to  be  van- 
quished again  by  the  loyal  hand  of  the  one,  by  the  unfor- 
gettable eyes  of  the  other.'" 


84  ST.   IVES 

It  is  to  be  feared  I  may  have  lent  at  times  a  certain 
resonancy  to  my  voice  ;  it  is  to  be  feared  that  Konald, 
who  was  none  the  better  for  his  own  hospitality,  may  have 
set  down  his  glass  with  something  of  a  clang.  Whatever 
may  have  been  the  cause,  at  least,  I  had  scarce  finished 
my  compliment  before  we  were  aware  of  a  thump  upon  the 
ceiling  overhead.  It  was  to  be  thought  some  very  solid 
body  had  descended  to  the  floor  from  the  level  (possibly)  of 
a  bed.  I  have  never  seen  consternation  painted  in  more 
lively  colours  than  on  the  faces  of  my  hosts.  It  was  pro- 
posed to  smuggle  me  forth  into  the  garden,  or  to  conceal 
my  form  under  a  horsehair  sofa  which  stood  against  the 
wall.  For  the  first  expedient,  as  was  now  plain  by  the  ap- 
proaching footsteps,  there  was  no  longer  time  ;  from  the 
second  I  recoiled  with  indignation. 

''  My  dear  creatures,"  said  I,  "  let  us  die,  but  do  not 
let  us  be  ridiculous."' 

The  words  were  still  upon  my  lips  when  the  door  opened 
and  my  friend  of  the  gold  eyeglass  appeared,  a  memorable 
figure,  on  the  threshold.  In  one  hand  she  bore  a  bedroom 
candlestick  ;  in  the  other,  with  the  steadiness  of  a  dra- 
goon, a  horse-pistol.  She  w^as  wound  about  in  shajvls 
which  did  not  wholly  conceal  the  candid  fabric  of  her 
nightdress,  and  surmounted  by  a  nightcap  of  portentous 
architecture.  Thus  accoutred,  she  made  her  entrance  ; 
laid  down  the  candle  and  pistol,  as  no  longer  called  for  ; 
looked  about  the  room  with  a  silence  more  eloquent  than 
oaths  ;  and  then,  in  a  thrilling  voice— ^'  To  whom  have  I 
the  pleasure?  "  she  said,  addressing  me  with  a  ghost  of  a  bow. 
"  Madam,  I  am  charmed,  I  am  sure,''  said  I.  ''  The 
story  is  a  little  long  ;  and  our  meeting,  however  welcome, 
was  for  the  moment  entirely  unexpected  by  myself.     I  am 

sure "  but  here  I  found  I  was  quite  sure  of  nothing,  and 

tried  again.    ''  I  have  the  honour,"  I  began,  and  found  I  had 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE     85 

the  honour  to  be  only  exceedingly  confused.  With  that,  I 
threw  myself  outright  upon  her  mercy.  "  Madam,  I  must 
be  more  frank  with  you/'  I  resumed.  '^  You  have  already 
proved  your  charity  and  compassion  for  the  French  pris- 
oners. I  am  one  of  these  ;  and  if  my  appearance  be  not 
too  much  changed,  you  may  even  yet  recognise  in  me  that 
Oddity  who  had  the  good  fortune  more  than  once  to  make 
you  smile.'' 

Still  gazing  upon  me  through  her  glass,  she  uttered  an 
uncompromising  grunt ;  and  then,  turning  to  her  niece — 
^'  Flora,"  said  she,  *^  how  comes  he  here  ?" 

The  culprits  poured  out  for  a  while  an  antiphony  of  ex- 
planations, which  died  out  at  last  in  a  miserable  silence. 

'^  I  think  at  least  you  might  have  told  your  aunt,"  she 
snorted. 

"  Madam,"  I  interposed,  "  they  were  about  to  do  so.  It 
is  my  fault  if  it  be  not  done  already.  But  I  made  it  my 
prayer  that  your  slumbers  might  be  respected,  and  this  nec- 
essary formula  of  my  presentation  should  be  delayed  until 
to-morrow  in  the  morning." 

The  old  lady  regarded  me  with  undissembled  incredulity, 
to  which  I  was  able  to  find  no  better  repartee  than  a  pro- 
found and  I  trust  graceful  reverence. 

''  French  prisoners  are  very  well  in  their  place,"  she 
said,  ''  but  I  cannot  see  that  their  place  is  in  my  private 
dining-room." 

''  Madam,"  said  I,  '^^  I  hope  it  may  be  said  without  of- 
fence, but  (except  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh)  I  cannot  think 
upon  the  spot  from  which  I  would  so  readily  be  absent." 

At  this,  to  my  relief,  I  thought  I  could  perceive  a  ves- 
tige of  a  smile  to  steal  upon  that  iron  countenance  and  to 
be  bitten  immediately  in. 

''And  if  it  is  a  fair  question,  what  do  they  call  ye  ?"  she 
asked. 


86  ST.    IVES 

''At  your  service,  the  Vicomte  Anne  tie  vSt.-Yves/' 
said  I. 

"  Mosha  the  Viscount/'  said  she,  "  I  am  afraid  you  do 
us  phiin  people  a  great  deal  too  much  honour/' 

"  My  dear  lady/'  said  I,  "  let  us  be  serious  for  a  moment. 
What  was  I  to  do  ?  Where  was  I  to  go  ?  And  how  can 
you  be  angry  with  these  benevolent  children,  who  took 
pity  on  one  so  unfortunate  as  myself  ?  Your  humble  ser- 
vant is  no  such  terrific  adventurer  that  you  should  come 
out  against  him  with  horse-pistols  and  "—smiling — "bed- 
room candlesticks.  It  is  but  a  young  gentleman  in  ex- 
treme distress,  hunted  upon  every  side,  and  asking  no 
more  than  to  escape  from  his  pursuers.  I  know  your  char- 
acter, I  read  it  in  your  face " — the  heart  trembled  in  my 
body  as  I  said  these  daring  words.  "  There  are  unhappy 
English  prisoners  in  France  at  this  day,  perhaps  at  this 
hour.  Perhaps  at  this  hour  they  kneel  as  I  do  ;  they  take 
the  hand  of  her  Avho  might  conceal  or  assist  them  ;  they 
press  it  to  their  lips  as  I  do " 


a 


Here,  here  ! "  cried  the  old  lady,  breaking  from  my 
solicitations.  "  Behave  yourself  before  folk  !  Saw  ever 
any  one  the  match  of  that  ?  And  on  earth,  my  dears,  what 
are  we  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  Pack  him  off,  my  dear  lady,"  said  I :  "  pack  off  the 
impudent  fellow  double-quick  !  And  if  it  may  be,  and  your 
good  heart  allows  it,  help  him  a  little  on  the  way  he  has 
to  go."  j 

"What's  this  pie? "she  cried  stridently.     "AVhere  isl 
this  pie  from.  Flora  ?  " 

No  answer  was  vouchsafed  by  my  unfortunate  and  (I 
may  say)  extinct  accomplices. 

"Is  that  my  port?"  she  pursued.  "Hough!  Will 
somebody  give  me  a  glass  of  my  port  wine  ?  " 

I  made  haste  to  serve  her. 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE     87 

She  looked  at  me  over  the  rim  with  an  extraordinary  ex- 
pression.    "  I  hope  ye  liked  it  V  said  she. 

^' It  is  even  a  magnificent  wine,"  said  I. 

''Awell,  it  was  my  father  laid  it  down/'  she  said. 
''  There  were  few  knew  more  about  port  wine  than  my 
father,  God  rest  him  !  "  She  settled  herself  in  a  chair  with 
an  alarming  air  of  resolution.  ''  And  so  there  is  some  par- 
ticular direction  that  you  wish  to  go  in  ?  "  said  she. 

'^  0/'  said  I,  following  her  example,  ''  I  am  by  no 
means  such  a  vagrant  as  you  suppose.  I  have  good  friends, 
if  I  could  get  to  them,  for  which  all  I  want  is  to  be  once 
clear  of  Scotland  ;  and  I  have  money  for  the  road."  And 
I  produced  my  bundle. 

"  English  banknotes  ?  "  she  said.  ''  That's  not  very 
handy  for  Scotland.  It's  been  some  fool  of  an  Englishman 
that's  given  you  these,  I'm  thinking.  How  much  is 
it  ?  " 

^'^I  declare  to  heaven  I  never  thought  to  count !"  I  ex- 
claimed.    ^'  But  that  is  soon  remedied." 

And  I  counted  out  ten  notes  of  ten  pound  each,  all  in 
the  name  of  Abraham  Newlands,  and  five  bills  of  country 
bankers  for  as  many  guineas. 

^^One  hundred  and  twenty-six  pound  five,"  cried  the 
old  lady.  ''  And  you  carry  such  a  sum  about  you,  and 
have  not  so  much  as  counted  it !  If  you  are  not  a  thief, 
you  must  allow  you  are  very  thief -like." 

^^  And  yet,  madam,  the  money  is  legitimately  mine," 
said  I. 

She  took  one  of  the  bills  and  held  it  up.  ''  Is  there  any 
probcibility,  now,  that  this  could  be  traced  ?  "  she  asked. 

*'  None,  I  should  suppose ;  and  if  it  were,  it  would  be 
no  matter,"  said  I.  ''  With  your  usual  penetration,  you 
guessed  right.  An  Englishman  brought  it  me.  It  reached 
me,  through  the  hands  of  his  English  solicitor,  from  my 


88  ST.   IVES 

great-uncle,  the  Comte  de  Keroual  de  Saint- Yves,  I  be- 
lieve the  richest  emigre  in  London." 

'^I  can  do  no  more  than  take  your  word  for  it,"  said 
she. 

''And  I  trust,  madam,  not  less,"  said  I. 

''  Well,"  said  she,  ''at  this  rate  the  matter  may  be  feasi- 
ble. I  will  cash  one  of  these  five-guinea  bills,  less  the 
exchange,  and  give  yon  silver  and  Scots  notes  to  bear  you 
as  far  as  the  border.  Beyond  that,  Mosha  the  Viscount, 
you  will  have  to  depend  upon  yourself." 

I  could  not  but  express  a  civil  hesitation  as  to  whether 
the  amount  would  suffice,  in  my  case,  for  so  long  a 
journey. 

"Ay,"  said  she,  "  but  you  havenae  heard  me  out.  For 
if  you  are  not  too  fine  a  gentleman  to  travel  with  a  pair  of 
drovers,  I  believe  I  have  found  the  very  thing,  and  the 
Lord  forgive  me  for  a  treasonable  old  wife  !  There  are  a 
couple  stopping  up  by  with  the  shepherd-man  at  the  farm ; 
to-morrow  they  will  take  the  road  for  England,  probably 
by  skriegh  of  day — and  in  my  opinion  you  had  best  be 
travelling  with  the  stots,"  said  she. 

"  For  Heaven^s  sake  do  not  suppose  me  to  be  so  effemi- 
nate a  character  !"  I  cried.  "An  old  soldier  of  Napoleon 
is  certainly  beyond  suspicion.  But,  dear  lady,  to  what 
end  ?  and  how  is  the  society  of  these  excellent  gentlemen 
supposed  to  help  me  ?  " 

"My  dear  sir,"  said  she,  "you  do  not  at  all  understand 
your  own  predicament,  and  must  just  leave  your  matters 
in  the  hands  of  those  who  do.  I  daresay  you  have  never 
even  heard  tell  of  the  drove-roads  or  the  drovers  ;  and  lam 
certainly  not  going  to  sit  up  all  night  to  explain  it  to  you. 
Suffice  it,  that  it  is  me  who  is  arranging  this  affair — the 
more  shame  to  me  ! — and  that  is  the  way  ye  have  to  go. 
Ronald,"  she  continued,   "away  up-by  to  the  shepherds  ; 


NONE  89 

rowst  them  out  of  their  beds^  and  make  it  perfectly  dis- 
tinct that  Sim  is  not  to  leave  till  he  has  seen  me.'' 

Konald  was  nothing  loath  to  escape  from  his  aunt's 
neighbourhood,  and  left  the  room  and  the  cottage  with  a 
silent  expedition  that  was  more  like  flight  than  mere 
obedience.     Meanwhile  the  old  lady  turned  to  her  niece. 

'^  And  I  would  like  to  know  what  we  are  to  do  with  him 
the  night ! "  she  cried. 

^^  Ronald  and  I  meant  to  put  him  in  the  hen-house," 
said  the  encrimsoned  Flora. 

^'^  And  I  can  tell  you  he  is  to  go  to  no  such  a  place,"  re- 
plied the  aunt.  ^'^  Hen-house,  indeed  !  If  a  guest  he  is  to 
be,  he  shall  sleep  in  no  mortal  hen-house.  Your  room  is 
the  most  fit,  I  think,  if  he  will  consent  to  occupy  it  on  so 
great  a  suddenty.  And  as  for  you.  Flora,  you  shall  sleep 
with  me." 

I  could  not  help  admiring  the  prudence  and  tact  of  this 
old  dowager,  and  of  course  it  was  not  for  me  to  make  objec- 
tions. Ere  I  well  knew  how,  I  was  alone  with  a  flat  candle- 
stick, which  is  not  the  most  sympathetic  of  companions, 
and  stood  studying  the  snuff  in  a  frame  of  mind  between 
triumph  and  chagrin.  All  had  gone  well  with  my  flight  : 
the  masterful  lady  who  had  arrogated  to  herself  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  details  gave  me  every  confidence  ;  and  I  saw 
myself  already  arriving  at  my  nucleus  door.  But,  alas  !  it 
was  another  story  with  my  love  affair.  I  had  seen  and 
spoken  with  her  alone  ;  I  had  ventured  boldly;  I  had  been 
not  ill  received  ;  I  had  seen  her  change  colour,  had  enjoyed 
the  undissembled  kindness  of  her  eyes ;  and  now,  in  a 
moment,  down  comes  upon  the  scene  that  apocalyptic  fig- 
ure with  the  nightcap  and  the  horse-pistol,  and  with  the 
very  wind  of  her  coming  behold  me  separated  from  my 
love  !  G-ratitude  and  admiration  contended  in  my  breast 
with  the  extreme  of  natural  rancour.     My  appearance  in 


90  ST.   IVES 

her  house  at  past  midnight  had  an  air  (I  coidd  not  disguise 
it  from  myself)  that  was  insolent  and  underhand,  and  could 
not  but  minister  to  the  worst  suspicions.  And  the  old  lady 
had  taken  it  well.  Her  generosity  was  no  more  to  be  called 
in  question  than  her  courage,  and  I  was  afraid  that  her 
intelligence  would  be  found  to  match.  Certainly,  Miss 
Flora  had  to  support  some  shrewd  looks,  and  certainly  she 
had  been  troubled.  I  could  see  but  the  one  way  before  me  : 
to  profit  by  an  excellent  bed,  to  try  to  sleep  soon,  to  be 
stirring  early,  and  to  hope  for  some  renewed  occasion  in 
the  morning.  To  have  said  so  much  and  yet  to  say  no 
more,  to  go  out  into  the  world  upon  so  half-hearted  a  part- 
ing, was  more  than  I  could  accept. 

It  is  my  belief  that  the  benevolent  fiend  sat  up  all  night 
to  baulk  me.  She  was  at  my  bedside  with  a  candle  long 
ere  day,  roused  me,  laid  out  for  me  a  damnable  misfit  of 
clothes,  and  bade  me  pack  my  own  (which  were  wholly 
unsuited  to  the  journey)  in  a  bundle.  Sore  grudging,  I 
arrayed  myself  in  a  suit  of  some  country  fabric,  as  delicate 
as  sackcloth  and  about  as  becoming  as  a  shroud  ;  and,  on 
coming  forth,  found  the  dragon  had  prepared  for  me  a 
hearty  breakfast.  She  took  the  head  of  the  table,  poured 
out  the  tea,  and  entertained  me  as  I  ate  with  a  great  deal 
of  good  sense  and  a  conspicuous  lack  of  charm.  IIow  often 
did  I  not  regret  the  change  ! — how  often  compare  her,  and 
condemn  her  in  the  comparison,  with  her  charming  niece  ! 
But  if  my  entertainer  was  not  beautiful,  she  had  certainly 
been  busy  in  my  interest.  Already  she  was  in  communi- 
cation with  my  destined  fellow-travellers  ;  and  the  device 
on  which  she  had  struck  appeared  entirely  suitable.  I  was 
a  young  Englishman  who  had  outrun  the  constable  ;  war- 
rants were  out  against  me  in  Scotland,  and  it  had  become 
needful  I  should  pass  the  border  without  loss  of  time,  and 
privately. 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE     1)1 

"  I  have  given  a  very  good  account  of  you,"  said  she, 
'^  which  I  hope  you  may  justify.  I  told  them  there  was 
nothing  against  you  beyond  the  fact  that  you  were  put  to 
the  haw  (if  that  is  the  right  word)  for  debt." 

"  I  pray  God  you  have  the  expression  incorrectly,  ma'am," 
said  I.  '^^I  do  not  give  myself  out  for  a  person  easily 
alarmed  ;  but  you  must  admit  there  is  something  barbarous 
and  mediaeval  in  the  sound  well  qualified  to  startle  a  poor 
foreigner." 

"It  is  the  name  of  a  process  in  Scots  Law,  and  need 
alarm  no  honest  man,"  said  she.  "  But  you  are  a  very 
idle-minded  young  gentleman  ;  you  must  still  have  your 
joke,  I  see  :  I  only  hope  you  will  have  no  cause  to  regret 
it." 

^^  I  pray  you  not  to  suppose,  because  I  speak  lightly, 
that  I  do  not  feel  deeply,"  said  I.  "  Your  kindness  has 
quite  conquered  me  ;  I  lay  myself  at  your  disposition,  I 
beg  you  to  believe,  with  real  tenderness  ;  I  pray  you  to 
consider  me  from  henceforth  as  the  most  devoted  of  your 
friends." 

'^  Well,  well,"  she  said,  "  here  comes  your  devoted  friend 
the  drover.  I^m  thinking  he  will  be  eager  for  the  road ; 
and  I  will  not  be  easy  myself  till  I  see  you  well  off  the 
premises,  and  the  dishes  washed,  before  my  servant-woman 
wakes.  Praise  God,  we  have  gotten  one  that  is  a  treasure 
at  the  sleeping  !" 

The  morning  was  already  beginning  to  be  blue  in  tlie 
trees  of  the  garden,  and  to  put  to  shame  the  candle  by 
which  I  had  breakfasted.  The  lady  rose  from  table,  and  I 
had  no  choice  but  to  follow  her  example.  All  the  time  I 
was  beating  my  brains  for  any  means  by  which  I  should  be 
able  to  get  a  word  apart  with  Flora,  or  find  the  time  to 
write  her  a  billet.  The  windows  had  been  open  while  I 
breakfasted,  I  suppose  to  ventilate  the  room  from  any  traces 


92  ST.   IVES 

of  my  passage  tliere  ;  and,  Master  Ronald  appearing  on  the 
front  lawn,  my  ogre  leaned  forth  to  address  him. 

"  Ronald/'  she  said,  "  wasn't  that  Sim  that  went  by  the 
wall?" 

I  snatched  my  advantage.  Right  at  her  back  there  was  pen, 
ink,  and  paper  laid  out.  I  wrote  :  '^  I  love  you  "  ;  and  before 
I  had  time  to  write  more,  or  so  much  as  to  blot  what  I  had 
written,  I  was  again  under  the  guns  of  the  gold  eyeglasses. 

"  It's  time,"  she  began  ;  and  then,  as  she  observed  my 
occupation,  ^'Umph  !"  she  broke  off.  ^' Ye  have  some- 
thing to  write  ?"  she  demanded. 

''  Some  notes,  madam,"  said  I,  bowing  with  alacrity. 

^'  Notes,"  she  said  ;  ''  or  a  note  ?  " 

''  There  is  doubtless  some  finesse  of  the  English  language 
that  I  do  not  comprehend,"  said  I. 

'^I'll  contrive,  however,  to  make  my  meaning  very  plain 
to  ye,  Mosha  le  Viscount,"  she  continued.  '^  1  suppose 
you  desire  to  be  considered  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Can  you  doubt  it,  madam  ?"  said  I. 

"  I  doubt  very  much,  at  least,  whether  you  go  to  the 
right  way  about  it,"  she  said.  ^' You  have  come  here  to 
me,  I  cannot  very  well  say  how  ;  I  think  you  will  admit 
you  owe  me  some  thanks,  if  it  was  only  for  the  breakfast  I 
made  ye.  But  what  are  you  to  me  ?  A  waif  young  man, 
not  so  far  to  seek  for  looks  and  manners,  with  some  Eng- 
lish notes  in  your  pocket  and  a  price  upon  your  head.  I 
am  a  lady ;  I  have  been  your  hostess,  with  however  little 
will ;  and  I  desire  that  this  random  acquaintance  of  yours 
with  my  family  will  cease  and  determine." 

I  believe  I  must  have  coloured.  ''  Madam,"  said  I,  "  the 
notes  are  of  no  importance  ;  and  your  least  pleasure  ought 
certainly  to  be  my  law.  You  have  felt,  and  you  have  been 
pleased  to  express,  a  doubt  of  me.  I  tear  them  up." 
Which  you  may  be  sure  I  did  thoroughly. 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE     93 

^'  There's  a  good  lad  ! ''  said  the  dragon,  and  immediately 
led  the  way  to  the  front  lawn. 

The  brother  and  sister  were  both  waiting  us  here,  and,  as 
well  as  I  could  make  out  in  the  imperfect  light,  bore  every 
appearance  of  having  passed  through  a  rather  cruel  experi- 
ence. Ronald  seemed  ashamed  to  so  much  as  catch  my 
eye  in  the  presence  of  his  aunt,  and  was  the  picture  of  em- 
barrassment. As  for  Flora,  she  had  scarce  the  time  to  cast 
me  one  look  before  the  dragon  took  her  by  the  arm,  and 
began  to  march  across  the  garden  in  the  extreme  first  glim- 
mer of  the  dawn  without  exchanging  speech.  Ronald  and 
I  followed  in  equal  silence. 

There  was  a  door  in  that  same  high  wall  on  the  top  of 
which  I  had  sat  perched  no  longer  gone  than  yesterday 
morning.  This  the  old  lady  set  open  with  a  key  ;  and  on 
the  other  side  we  were  aware  of  a  rough-looking,  thick-set 
man,  leaning  with  his  arms  (through  which  was  passed  a 
formidable  staff)  on  a  dry-stone  dyke.  Him  the  old  lady 
immediately  addressed. 

'SSim,"  said  she,  ''this  is  the  young  gentleman." 

Sim  replied  with  an  inarticulate  grumble  of  sound,  and 
a  movement  of  one  arm  and  his  head,  which  did  duty  for 
a  salutation. 

"  Now,  Mr.  St.  Ives,"  said  the  old  lady,  "it's  high  time 
for  you  to  be  taking  the  road.  But  first  of  all  let  me  give 
the  change  of  your  five-guinea  bill.  Here  are  four  pounds 
of  it  in  British  Linen  notes,  and  the  balance  in  small  silver, 
less  sixpence.  Some  charge  a  shilling,  I  believe,  but  I  have 
given  3^ou  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  See  and  guide  it  with 
all  the  sense  that  you  possess." 

"And  here,  Mr.  St.  Ives,"  said  Flora,  speaking  for  the  first 
time,  ''is  a  plaid  which  you  will  find  quite  necessary  on  so 
rough  a  journey.  I  hope  you  will  take  it  from  the  hands 
of  a  Scotch  friend,"  she  added,  and  her  voice  trembled. 


94  ST.   IVES 

''  Genuine  holly  :  I  cut  it  myself,"  said  Ronald,  and  gave 
me  as  good  a  cudgel  as  a  man  could  wish  for  in  a  row. 

The  formality  of  these  gifts,  and  the  waiting  figure  of 
the  driver,  told  me  loudly  that  I  must  be  gone.  I  dropj^ed 
on  one  knee  and  bade  farewell  to  the  aunt,  kissing  her 
hand.  I  did  the  like — but  with  how  different  a  passion  I — 
to  her  niece  ;  as  for  the  boy,  I  took  him  to  my  arms  and 
embraced  him  with  a  cordiality  that  seemed  to  strike  him 
speechless.  "  Farewell  !  "  and  "  Farewell  ! "  I  said.  ''  I 
shall  never  forget  my  friends.  Keep  me  sometimes  in 
memory.  Farewell  \"  With  that  I  turned  my  back 
and  began  to  walk  away  ;  and  had  scarce  done  so,  wdien 
I  heard  the  door  in  the  high  wall  close  behind  me.  Of 
course  this  was  the  aunt's  doing ;  and  of  course,  if  I  know 
anytliing  of  human  character,  she  would  not  let  me  go 
without  some  tart  expressions.  I  declare,  even  if  I  had 
heard  them,  I  should  not  have  minded  in  the  least,  for  I  was 
quite  persuaded  that,  whatever  admirers  I  might  be  leaving 
behind  me  in  Swanston  Cottage,  the  aunt  was  not  the  least 
sincere. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE     DROVERS 

It  took  me  a  little  effort  to  come  abreast  of  my  new  com- 
panion ;  for  though  he  walked  with  an  ugly  roll  and  no 
great  appearance  of  speed,  he  could  cover  the  ground  at  a 
good  rate  when  lie  wanted  to.  Each  looked  at  the  other  : 
I  with  natural  curiosity,  he  Avith  a  great  appearance  of 
distaste.  I  have  heard  since  that  his  heart  was  entirely 
set  against  me  ;  he  had  seen  me  kneel  to  the  ladies,  and 
diagnosed  me  for  a  "  gesterin'  eediot.^' 

"  So,  ye're  for  England,  are  ye  ?"  said  he. 

I  told  him  yes. 

"  Weel,  there's  waur  places,  I  believe,''  was  his  reply ; 
and  he  relapsed  into  a  silence  which  was  not  broken  during 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  steady  walking. 

This  interval  brought  us  to  the  foot  of  a  bare  green  val- 
ley, which  wound  ujowards  and  backwards  among  the  hills. 
A  little  stream  came  down  the  midst  and  made  a  succes- 
sion of  clear  pools ;  near  by  the  lowest  of  which  I  was 
aware  of  a  drove  of  shaggy  cattle,  and  a  man  who  seemed 
the  very  counterpart  of  Mr.  Sim  making  a  breakfast  upon 
bread  and  cheese.  This  second  drover  (whose  name  proved 
to  be  Candlish)  rose  on  our  approach. 

"  Here's  a  mannie  that's  to  gang  through  with  us,"  said 
Sim.     ^^It  was  the  auld  wife,  Gilchrist,  wanted  it." 

'^  Aweel,  aweel/'  said  the  other  ;  and  presently,  remem- 


96  ST.   IVES 

bering  his  manners,  and  looking  on  me  with  a  solemn  grin, 
"  A  fine  day  !  "  says  he. 

I  agreed  with  him,  and  asked  him  how  he  did. 

''  Brawl}^'''  was  the  reply  ;  and  without  further  civilities, 
the  pair  proceeded  to  get  the  cattle  under  way.  This,  as 
well  as  almost  all  the  herding,  was  the  work  of  a  pair  of 
comely  and  intelligent  dogs,  directed  by  Sim  or  Candlish 
in  little  more  than  monosyllables.  Presently  we  were  as- 
cending the  side  of  the  mountain  by  a  rude  green  track, 
whose  presence  I  had  not  hitherto  observed.  A  continual 
sound  of  munching  and  the  crying  of  a  great  quantity  of 
moor  birds  accompanied  our  progress,  which  the  deliberate 
pace  and  perennial  appetite  of  the  cattle  rendered  weari- 
somely slow.  In  the  midst  my  two  conductors  marched  in 
a  contented  silence  that  I  could  not  but  admire.  The  more 
I  looked  at  them,  the  more  I  Avas  impressed  by  their  ab- 
surd resemblance  to  each  other.  They  were  dressed  in  the 
same  coarse  homespun,  carried  similar  sticks,  were  equally 
begrimed  about  the  nose  with  snuff,  and  each  wound  in  an 
identical  plaid  of  what  is  called  the  shepherd's  tartan.  In  a 
back  view  they  might  be  described  as  indistinguishable  ; 
and  even  from  the  front  they  were  much  alike.  An  in- 
credible coincidence  of  humours  augmented  the  impression. 
Thrice  and  four  times  I  attempted  to  pave  the  way  for  some 
exchange  of  thought,  sentiment,  or — at  the  least  of  it — 
human  words.  An  Ay  or  an  Nlwi  was  the  sole  return,  and 
the  topic  died  on  the  hillside  without  echo.  I  can  never 
deny  that  I  was  chagrined  ;  and  when,  after  a  little  more 
walking,  Sim  turned  towards  me  and  offered  me  a  ram's 
horn  of  snuff,  with  the  question  "Do  ye  use  it?''  I  an- 
swered, with  some  animation,  ''  Faitli,  sir,  I  would  use 
pepper  to  introduce  a  little  cordiality."  But  even  this  sally 
failed  to  reach,  or  at  least  failed  to  soften,  my  companions. 

At  this  rate  we  came  to  the  summit  of  a  ridge,  and  saw 


THE   DROVERS  97 

the  track  descend  in  front  of  ns  abruptly  into  a  desert 
vale,  about  a  league  in  length,  and  closed  at  the  farther 
end  by  no  less  barren  hilltops.  Upon  this  point  of  vantage 
Sim  came  to  a  halt,  took  off  his  hat,  and  mopped  his  brow. 

^'  Weel,'^  he  said,  "  here  we're  at  the  top  o'  Howden." 

"  The  top  o'  Howden,  sure  eneuch/'  said  Candlish. 

''Mr.  St.  Ivey,  are  ye  dry  ?"  said  the  first. 

''Now,  really,"  said  I,  "is  not  this  Satan  reproving 
sin  ?  " 

"AVhat  ails  ye,  man?"  said  he.  "I'm  oiferin'  ye  a 
dram." 

"  0,  if  it  be  anything  to  drink,"  said  I,  "  I  am  as  dry 
as  my  neighbours." 

Whereupon  Sim  produced  from  the  corner  of  his  plaid 
a  black  bottle,  and  we  all  drank  and  pledged  each  other. 
I  found  these  gentlemen  followed  upon  such  occasions  an 
invariable  etiquette,  which  you  may  be  certain  I  made 
haste  to  imitate.  Each  wiped  his  mouth  with  the  back 
of  his  left  hand,  held  up  the  bottle  in  his  right,  remarked 
with  emphasis,  "  Here's  to  ye  ! "  and  swallowed  as  much 
of  the  spirit  as  his  fancy  prompted.  This  little  ceremony, 
which  was  the  nearest  thing  to  manners  I  could  perceive 
in  either  of  my  companions,  was  repeated  at  becoming  in- 
tervals, generally  after  an  ascent.  Occasionally  we  shared 
a  mouthful  of  ewe-milk  cheese  and  an  inglorious  form  of 
bread,  which  I  understood  (but  am  far  from  engaging  my 
honour  on  the  point)  to  be  called  "  shearer's  bannock." 
And  that  may  be  said  to  have  concluded  our  whole  active 
intercourse  for  the  first  day. 

I  had  the  more  occasion  to  remark  the  extraordinarily 
desolate  nature  of  that  country,  through  which  the  drove 
road  continued,  hour  after  hour  and  even  day  after  day, 
to  wind.  A  continual  succession  of  insignificant  shaggy 
hills,  divided  by  the  course  of  ten  thousand  brooks, 
7 


98  ST.    IVES 

through  which  we  had  to  wade,  or  by  the  side  of  which 
we  encamped  at  night  ;  infinite  perspectives  of  heather, 
infinite  quantities  of  moorfowl  ;  here  and  there,  by  a 
stream  side,  small  and  pretty  clumps  of  willows  or  the 
silver  birch ;  here  and  there,  the  ruins  of  ancient  and  in- 
considerable fortresses— made  the  unchanging  characters 
of  the  scone.  Occasionally,  but  only  in  the  distance,  Ave 
could  perceive  the  smoke  of  a  small  town  or  of  an  isolated 
farmhouse  or  cottage  on  the  moors  ;  more  often,  a  flock 
of  sheep  and  its  attendant  shepherd,  or  a  rude  field  of 
agriculture  perhaps  not  yet  harvested.  With  these  allevia^ 
tions,  we  might  almost  be  said  to  pass  through  an  un^ 
broken  desert— sure,  one  of  the  most  impoverished  in 
Europe  ;  and  when  I  recalled  to  mind  that  we  were  yet 
but  a  few  leagues  from  the  chief  city  (where  the  law  courts 
sat  every  day  with  a  press  of  business,  soldiers  garrisoned 
the  castle,  and  men  of  admitted  parts  were  carrying  on  the 
practice  of  letters  and  the  investigations  of  science),  it 
gave  me  a  singular  view  of  that  poor,  barren,  and  yet  illus- 
trious country  through  which  I  travelled.  Still  more, 
perhaps,  did  it  commend  the  wisdom  of  Miss  Gilchrist  in 
sending  me  with  these  uncouth  companions  and  by  this 
unfrequented  path. 

My  itinerary  is  by  no  means  clear  to  me  ;  the  names 
and  distances  I  never  clearly  knew,  and  have  now  wholly 
forgotten  ;  and  this  is  the  more  to  be  regretted  as  there 
is  no  doubt  that,  in  the  course  of  those  days,  I  must  have 
passed  and  camped  among  sites  which  have  been  rendered 
illustrious  by  the  pen  of  Walter  Scott.  Nay,  more,  I  am 
of  opinion  that  I  was  still  more  favoured  by  fortune,  and 
have  actually  met  and  spoken  with  that  inimitable  author. 
Our  encounter  was  of  a  tall,  stoutish,  elderly  gentleman, 
a  little  grizzled,  and  of  a  rugged  but  cheerful  and  engaging 
countenance.     He  sat  on  a  hill  pony,  wrapped  in  a  plaid 


THE   DROVERS  99 

over  his  green  coat,  and  was  accompanie'i  by  a  horsewoman, 
his  daughter,  a  young  hidy  of  the  most  charming  ap- 
pearance. They  overtook  us  on  a  stretch  of  heath,  reined 
up  as  they  came  alongside,  and  accompanied  us  for  per- 
haps a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  they  galloped  oil  again 
across  the  hillsides  to  our  left.  Great  was  my  amazement 
to  find  the  unconquerable  Mr.  Sim  thaw  immediately  on 
the  accost  of  this  strange  gentleman,  who  hailed  him  with 
a  ready  familiarity,  proceeded  at  once  to  discuss  with  him 
the  trade  of  droving  and  the  prices  of  cattle,  and  did  not 
disdain  to  take  a  pinch  from  the  inevitable  ram's  horn. 
Presently  I  was  aware  that  the  stranger's  eye  was  directed 
on  myself  ;  and  there  ensued  a  conversation,  some  of  which 
I  could  not  help  overhearing  at  the  time,  and  the  rest  have 
pieced  together  more  or  less  plausibly  from  the  report  of 
Sim. 

^'  Surely  that  must  be  an  amateur  drover  ye  have  gotten 
there  ? "'  the  gentleman  seems  to  have  asked. 

Sim  replied,  I  was  a  young  gentleman  that  had  a  reason 
of  his  own  to  travel  privately. 

''  Well,  Avell,  ye  must  tell  me  nothing  of  that.  I  am  in 
law,  you  know,  and  face  is  the  Latin  for  a  candle,''  an- 
swered the  gentleman.     "  But  I  hope  it's  nothing  bad." 

Sim  told  him  it  was  no  more  than  debt. 

**0,  Lord,  if  that  be  all  !  "  cried  the  gentleman  ;  and, 
turning  to  myself,  ''  Well,  sir,"  he  added,  "  I  understand 
you  are  taking  a  tramp  through  our  forest  here  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  thing  ?" 

''Why,  yes,  sir,"  said  I;  ''and  I  must  say  I  am  very 
well  entertained." 

"  I  envy  you,"  said  he.  "  I  have  jogged  many  miles  of 
it  myself  when  I  was  younger.  My  youth  lies  buried 
about  here  under  every  heather-bush,  like  the  soul  of  the 
licentiate   Lucius.     But  you  should  have  a  guide.     The 


100  ST.    I  YES 

pleasure  of  this  country  is  much  in  the  legends,  which 
grow  as  plentiful  as  blackberries/'  And  directing  my  at- 
tention to  a  little  fragment  of  a  broken  wall  no  greater 
than  a  tombstone,  he  told  me,  for  an  example,  a  story  of 
its  earlier  inhabitants.  Years  after  it  chanced  that  I  was 
one  day  diverting  myself  with  a  AYaverley  Novel,  when 
what  should  I  come  upon  but  the  identical  narrative  of  my 
green-coated  gentleman  upon  the  moors  I  In  a  moment 
the  scene,  the  tones  of  his  voice,  his  northern  accent,  and 
the  very  aspect  of  the  earth  and  sky  and  temperature  of 
the  weather,  flashed  back  into  my  mind  with  the  reality  of 
dreams.  The  unknown  in  the  green  coat  had  been  the 
Great  Unknown  !  I  had  met  Scott ;  I  had  heard  a  story 
from  his  lips  ;  I  should  have  been  able  to  write,  to  claim 
acquaintance,  to  tell  him  that  his  legend  still  tingled  in 
my  ears.  But  the  discovery  came  too  late,  and  the  great 
man  had  already  succumbed  under  the  load  of  his  honours 
and  misfortunes. 

Presently,  after  giving  us  a  cigar  apiece,  Scott  bade  us 
farewell  and  disappeared  with  his  daughter  over  the  hills. 
And  when  I  applied  to  Sim  for  information,  his  answer  of 
"The  Shirra,  man  !  A'body  kens  the  Shirra  !"  told  me, 
unfortunately,  nothing. 

A  more  considerable  adventure  falls  to  be  related.  We 
were  now  near  the  border.  We  had  travelled  for  long 
upon  the  track  beaten  and  browsed  by  a  million  herds,  our 
predecessors,  and  had  seen  no  vestige  of  that  traffic  which 
had  created  it.  It  was  early  in  the  morning  when  we  at 
last  perceived,  drawing  near  to  the  drove  road,  but  still  at 
the  distance  of  about  half  a  league,  a  second  caravan,  simi- 
lar to  but  larger  than  our  own.  The  liveliest  excitement 
was  at  once  exhibited  by  both  my  comrades.  They 
climbed  hillocks,  they  studied  the  approaching  drove  from 
under  their  hand,  they  consulted  each  other  with  an  ap- 


THE   DitCVEP.g  101 

pearance  of  alarm  that  seemed  to  me  extraordinary.  I  had 
learned  by  this  time  that  their  stand-off  manners  implied, 
at  least,  no  active  enmity  ;  and  I  made  bold  to  ask  them 
what  was  wrong. 

"  Bad  yins,"  was  Sim's  emphatic  answer. 

All  day  the  dogs  were  kept  unsparingly  on  the  alert,  and 
the  drove  pushed  forward  at  a  very  unusual  and  seemingly 
unwelcome  speed.  All  day  Sim  and  Candlish,  with  a  more 
than  ordinary  expenditure  both  of  snuff  and  of  words,  con- 
tinued to  debate  the  position.  It  seems  that  they  had  rec- 
ognised two  of  our  neighbours  on  the  road — one  Faa,  and 
another  by  the  name  of  Gillies.  AVhether  there  was  an 
old  feud  between  them  still  unsettled  I  could  never  learn  ; 
but  Sim  and  Candlish  were  prepared  for  every  degree  of 
fraud  or  violence  at  their  hands.  Candlish  repeatedly  con- 
gratulated himself  on  having  left  "  the  watch  at  home  with 
the  mistress  "  ;  and  Sim  perpetually  brandished  his  cudgel, 
and  cursed  his  ill-fortune  that  it  should  be  sprung. 

''  I  wilna  care  a  damn  to  gie  the  daashed  scoon'rel  a  fair 
clout  wi'  it,^'  he  said.  ''  The  daashed  thing  micht  come 
sindry  in  ma  hand." 

''  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  I,  ''  suppose  they  do  come  on, 
I  think  we  can  give  a  very  good  account  of  them.''^  And  I 
made  my  piece  of  holly,  Ronald's  gift,  the  value  of  which 
I  now  appreciated,  sing  about  my  head. 

"  Ay,  man  ?  Are  ye  stench  ? "  inquired  Sim,  with  a 
gleam  of  approval  in  his  wooden  countenance. 

The  same  evening,  somewhat  wearied  with  our  day-long 
expedition,  we  encamped  on  a  little  verdant  mound,  from 
the  midst  of  which  there  welled  a  spring  of  clear  water 
scarce  great  enough  to  wash  the  hands  in.  We  had 
made  our  meal  and  lain  down,  but  were  not  yet  asleep, 
when  a  growl  from  one  of  the  collies  set  us  on  the  alert. 
All  three  sat  up,  and  on  a  second  impulse  all  lay  down 


again,  but  now  with  our  cudgels  ready.  A  man  must  be  an 
alien  and  an  outlaw,  an  old  soldier  and  a  young  man  in  the 
bargain,  to  take  adventure  easily.  AVith  no  idea  as  to  the 
rights  of  the  quarrel  or  the  probable  consequences  of  .the 
encounter,  I  was  as  ready  to  take  part  with  my  two  dro- 
vers, as  ever  to  fall  in  line  on  the  morning  of  a  battle. 
Presently  there  leaped  three  men  out  of  the  heather  ;  we 
had  scarce  time  to  get  to  our  feet  before  Ave  were  assailed  ; 
and  in  a  moment  each  one  of  us  was  engaged  with  an  ad- 
versary whom  the  deepening  twilight  scarce  permitted  him 
to  see.  How  the  battle  sped  in  other  quarters  I  am  in  no 
position  to  describe.  The  rogue  that  fell  to  my  share  was 
exceedingly  agile  and  expert  with  his  weapon ;  had  and 
held  me  at  a  disadvantage  from  the  first  assault ;  forced  me 
to  give  ground  continually,  and  at  last,  in  mere  self-de- 
fence, to  let  him  have  the  point.  It  struck  him  in  the 
throat,  and  he  went  down  like  a  ninepin  and  moved  no 
more. 

It  seemed  this  was  the  signal  for  the  engagement  to  be 
discontinued.  The  other  combatants  separated  at  once  ; 
our  foes  were  suffered,  without  molestation,  to  lift  up  and 
bear  away  their  fallen  comrade  ;  so  that  I  perceived  this 
sort  of  Avar  to  be  not  Avholly  Avithout  laAvs  of  chivalry,  and 
perhaps  rather  to  partake  of  the  character  of  a  tournament 
than  of  a  battle  a  outrance.  There  Avas  no  doubt,  at  least, 
that  I  Avas  supposed  to  have  pushed  the  affair  too  seriously. 
Our  friends  the  enemy  removed  their  Avounded  companion 
Avitli  undisguised  consternation  ;  and  they  Avere  no  sooner 
over  the  top  of  the  brae,  than  Sim  and  Candlish  roused  up 
their  Avearied  drove  and  set  forth  on  a  night  march. 

"  I'm  thinking  Faa's  unco  bad,"  said  the  one. 

*' Ay,''  said  the  other,  "  he  lookit  dooms  gash.'' 

''  He  did  that,"  said  the  first. 

And  their  Aveary  silence  fell  upon  them  again. 


THE  DROVER&  103 

Presently  Sim  turned  to  me.  ''  Ye*re  nnco  ready  with 
the  stick,"  said  he. 

'"  Too  ready,  I'm  afraid/'  said  I.  "  I  am  afraid  Mr.  Faa 
(if  tliat  be  his  name)  has  got  his  grueh" 

''  Weel,  I  wouldnae  wonder/'  replied  Sim. 

"  And  what  is  likely  to  happen  ?  "  I  inquired. 

*'  Aweel/'  said  Sim,  snuffing  profoundly,  ^^  if  I  were  to 
offer  an  opeenion,  it  would  not  be  conscientious.  For  the 
plain  fac'  is,  Mr.  St.  Ivy,  that  I  div  not  ken.  We  have  had 
crackit  heids — and  rowtli  of  them — ere  now  ;  and  we  have 
liad  a  broken  leg  or  maybe  twa  ;  and  the  like  of  that  we 
drover  bodies  make  a  kind  of  a  practice  like  to  keep  among 
ourseFs.  But  a  corp  we  have  none  of  us  ever  had  to  deal 
with,  and  I  could  set  nae  leemit  to  what  Gillies  micht  con- 
sider proper  in  the  affair.  Forbye  that,  he  would  be  in 
raither  a  hobble  himseF,  if  he  was  to  gang  hame  wantin' 
Faa.  Folk  are  awfu'  throng  with  their  questions,  and  par- 
teecularly  when  they're  no  wantit." 

^^  That's  a  fac',"  said  Candlish. 

I  considered  this  prospect  ruefully ;  and  then,  making 
the  best  of  it,  ^^Upon  all  which  accounts,"  said  I,  *'the 
best  will  be  to  get  across  the  border  and  there  separate. 
If  you  are  troubled,  you  can  very  truly  put  the  blame  upon 
your  late  companion  ;  and  if  I  am  pursued,  I  must  just  try 
to  keep  out  of  the  way." 

''  Mr.  St.  Ivy,"  said  Sim,  with  something  resembling  en- 
thusiasm, "  no  a  word  mair  !  I  have  met  in  wi'mony  kinds 
o'  gentry  ere  now  ;  I  hae  seen  o'  them  that  was  the  tae 
thing,  and  I  hae  seen  o'  them  that  was  the  tither  ;  but  the 
wale  of  a  gentleman  like  you  I  have  no  sae  very  frequently 
seen  the  bate  of." 

Our  night  march  was  accordingly  pursued  with  unremit- 
ting diligence.  The  stars  paled,  the  east  whitened,  and 
we  were  still,  both  dogs  and  men,  toiling  after  the  wearied 


104  ST.    IVES 

cattle.  Again  and  again  Sim  and  Candlish  lamented  the 
necessity  :  it  was  ^'  fair  ruin  on  the  bestial/''  they  declared  ; 
but  the  thought  of  a  judge  and  a  scaffold  hunted  them 
ever  forward.  I  myself  was  not  so  much  to  be  pitied.  All 
that  night,  and  during  the  whole  of  the  little  that  remained 
before  us  of  our  conjunct  journey,  I  enjoyed  a  new  pleas- 
ure, the  reward  of  my  prowess,  in  the  now  loosened  tongue 
of  Mr.  Sim.  Candlish  was  still  obdurately  taciturn  :  it 
was  the  man's  nature  ;  but  Sim,  having  finally  appraised 
and  approved  me,  displayed  without  reticence  a  rather 
garrulous  ha^bit  of  mind  and  a  i^retty  talent  for  nari-ution. 
The  pair  were  old  and  close  companions,  co-existing  in 
these  endless  moors  in  a  brotherhood  of  silence  such  as  I 
have  heard  attributed  to  the  trappers  of  the  west.  It  seems 
absurd  to  mention  love  in  connection  with  so  ugly  and 
snuffy  a  couple ;  at  least,  their  trust  was  absolute ;  and 
they  entertained  a  surprising  admiration  for  each  other's 
qualities  ;  Candlish  exclaiming  that  Sim  was  "^^  grand  com- 
pany !  "  and  Sim  frequently  assuring  me  in  an  aside  that 
for  "a  rale,  auld,  stench  bitch,  there  was  nae  the  bate  of 
Candlish  in  braid  Scotland."  The  two  dogs  appeared  to  be 
entirely  included  in  this  family  compact,  and  I  remarked 
that  their  exploits  and  traits  of  character  were  constantly 
and  minutely  observed  by  the  two  masters.  Dog  stories 
particularly  abounded  with  them  ;  and  not  only  the  dogs 
of  the  present  but  those  of  the  past  contributed  their 
quota.  "  But  that  was  naething,''  Sim  would  begin  : 
^'  there  was  a  herd  in  Manar,  they  ca'd  him  Tweedie — ye'll 
mind  Tweedie,  Can'lish?"  ^^  Fine,  that!''  said  Candlish. 
"  Aweel,  Tweedie  had  a  dog "  The  story  I  have  for- 
gotten ;  I  daresay  it  was  dull,  and  I  suspect  it  was  not 
true  ;  but  indeed,  my  travels  with  the  drovers  had  ren- 
dered me  indulgent,  and  perhaps  even  credulous,  in  the 
matter  of  dog  stories.  Beautiful,  indefatigable  beings  !  as  I 


THE  DROVERS  105 

saw  them  at  the  end  of  a  long  day's  journey  frisking,  bark- 
ing, bounding,  striking  attitudes,  shiuting  a  bushy  tail, 
manifestly  playing  to  the  spectator's  eye,  manifestly  rejoic- 
ing in  their  grace  and  beauty — and  turned  to  observe  Sim 
and  Oandlish  unornamentally  plodding  in  the  rear  with 
the  plaids  about  their  bowed  shoulders  and  the  drop  at 
their  snuffy  nose — I  thought  I  would  rather  claim  kinship 
with  the  dogs  than  with  the  men  !  My  sympathy  was  un- 
returned  ;  in  their  eyes  I  was  a  creature  light  as  air  ;  and 
they  would  scarce  spare  me  the  time  for  a  perfunctory 
caress  or  perhaps  a  hasty  lap  of  the  wet  tongue,  ere  they 
were  back  again  in  sedulous  attendance  on  those  dingy 
deities,  their  masters — and  their  masters,  as  like  as  not, 
damning  their  stupidity. 

Altogether  the  last  hours  of  our  tramp  were  infinitely 
the  most  agreeable  to  me,  and  I  believe  to  all  of  us  ;  and 
by  the  time  we  came  to  separate,  there  had  grown  up  a 
certain  familiarity  and  mutual  esteem  that  made  the  part- 
ing harder.  It  took  place  about  four  of  the  afternoon  on 
a  bare  hillside  from  which  I  could  see  the  ribbon  of  the 
great  north  road,  henceforth  to  be  my  conductor.  I  asked 
what  was  to  pay. 

"  Naething/'  replied  Sim. 

''What  in  the  name  of  folly  is  this?"  I  exclaimed. 
"  You  have  led  me,  you  have  fed  me,  you  have  filled  me 
full  of  whisky,  and  now  you  will  take  nothing  ! " 

^'  Ye  see  we  indentit  for  that,''  replied  Sim. 

"  Indented  ?  "    I    repeated  ;    ''  what    does    the    man 


mean 


9" 


"  Mr.  St.  Ivy,"  said  Sim,  "  this  is  a  maitter  entirely  be- 
tween Candlish  and  me  and  the  auld  wife,  Gilchrist.  You 
had  naething  to  say  to  it ;  weel,  ye  can  have  naething  to 
do  with  it,  then." 

"  My  good  man,"  said  I,   ''I  can  allow  myself  to  be 


106  ST.    IVES 

placed  in  no  sncli  ridicnlous  position.  Mrs.  Gilchrist  is 
nothing  to  me,  and  I  refuse  to  be  her  debtor."' 

"  I  dinna  exac'ly  see  what  way  ye're  gann  to  help  it," 
observed  my  drover. 

'^  By  paying  you  here  and  now,'"  said  I. 

^'  There's  aye  twa  to  a  bargain,  Mr.  St.  Ives,"  said  he. 

^'  Yon  mean  that  you  will  not  take  it  ?  "  said  I. 

"  There  or  thereabout,"  said  he.  "  Forbye,  that  it 
would  set  ye  a  heap  better  to  keep  your  siller  for  them  you 
awe  it  to.  Ye're  young,  Mr.  St.  Ivy,  and  thoughtless  ; 
but  it's  my  belief  that,  wi'  care  and  circumspection,  ye  may 
yet  do  credit  to  yoursel\  But  just  you  bear  this  in  mind  : 
that  him  that  aiues  siller  should  never  gie  siller." 

Well,  what  was  there  to  say  ?  I  accepted  his  rebuke, 
and  bidding  the  pair  farewell,  set  off  alone  upon  my  south- 
w^ard  way. 

*^'Mr.  St.  Ivy,"  was  the  last  word  of  Sim,  ''  I  was  never 
muckle  ta'en  up  in  Englishry  ;  but  I  think  that  I  really 
ought  to  say  that  ye  seem  to  me  to  have  the  makings  of 
quite  a  dacent  lad." 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   GREAT   NORTH   ROAD 

It  chanced  that  as  I  went  down  the  hill  these  last  words 
of  my  friend  the  drover  echoed  not  unfruitfnlly  in  my 
head.  I  had  never  told  these  men  the  least  particulars  as 
to  my  race  or  fortune,  as  it  was  a  part,  and  the  best  part, 
of  their  civility  to  ask  no  questions  :  yet  they  had  dubbed 
me  without  hesitation  English.  Some  strangeness  in  the 
accent  they  had  doubtless  thus  explained.  And  it  occurred 
to  me,  that  if  I  could  pass  in  Scotland  for  an  Englishman, 
I  might  be  able  to  reverse  the  process  and  pass  in  England 
for  a  Scot.  I  thought,  if  I  was  pushed  to  it,  I  could  make 
a  struggle  to  imitate  the  brogue ;  after  my  experience  with 
Candlish  and  Sim,  I  had  a  rich  provision  of  outlandish 
words  at  my  command  ;  and  I  felt  I  could  tell  the  tale  of 
Tweedie's  dog  so  as  to  deceive  a  native.  At  the  same  time, 
I  was  afraid  my  name  of  St.  Ives  was  scarcely  suitable  ;  till 
I  remembered  there  was  a  town  so  called  in  the  province 
of  Cornwall,  thought  I  might  yet  be  glad  to  claim  it  for  my 
place  of  origin,  and  decided  for  a  Cornish  family  and  a 
Scots  education.  For  a  trade,  as  I  was  equally  ignorant 
of  all,  and  as  the  most  innocent  might  at  any  moment  be 
the  means  of  my  exposure,  it  was  best  to  pretend  to  none. 
And  I  dubbed  myself  a  young  gentleman  of  a  sufficient 
fortune  and  an  idle,  curious  habit  of  mind,  rambling  the 
country  at  my  own  charges,  in  quest  of  health,  informa- 
tion, and  merry  adventures. 

107 


108  ST.    IVES 

At  >3'ewcastle,  which  was  the  first  town  I  reached,  I  com- 
pleted my  preparations  for  tlie  part,  before  going  to  tlie 
inn,  by  the  purchase  of  a  knapsack  and  a  pair  of  leathern 
gaiters.  My  plaid  I  continued  to  wear  from  sentiment.  It 
was  warm,  useful  to  sleeji  in  if  I  were  again  benighted, 
and  I  had  discovered  it  to  be  not  unbecoming  for  a  man  of 
gallant  carriage.  Thus  equipped,  I  supported  my  charac- 
ter of  the  light-hearted  pedestrian  not  amiss.  Surprise 
was  indeed  expressed  that  I  should  have  selected  such  a 
season  of  the  year  ;  but  I  pleaded  some  delays  of  business, 
and  smilingly  claimed  to  be  an  eccentric.  The  devil  was 
in  it,  I  would  say,  if  any  season  of  the  year  was  not  good 
enough  for  me  ;  I  was  not  made  of  sugar,  I  was  no  molly- 
coddle to  be  afraid  of  an  ill-aired  bed  or  a  sprinkle  of  snow  ; 
and  I  would  knock  upon  the  table  with  my  fist  and  call  for 
t'other  bottle,  like  the  noisy  and  free-hearted  young  gentle- 
man I  was.  It  was  my  policy  (if  I  may  so  express  myself) 
to  talk  much  and  say  little.  At  the  inn  tables,  the  coun- 
try, the  state  of  the  roads,  the  business  interest  of  those 
who  sat  down  with  me,  and  the  course  of  public  events, 
afforded  me  a  considerable  field  in  which  I  might  discourse 
at  large  and  still  communicate  no  information  about  mv- 
seif.  There  was  no  one  with  less  air  of  reticence  ;  I  plunged 
into  my  company  up  to  the  neck  ;  and  I  had  a  long  cock- 
and-bull  story  of  an  aunt  of  mine  which  must  have  con- 
vinced the  most  suspicious  of  my  innocence.  "  What  I "' 
they  would  have  said,  "  that  young  ass  to  be  concealing 
anything  !  Why,  he  has  deafened  me  with  an  aunt  of  his 
until  my  head  aches.  lie  only  wants  you  should  give  him 
a  line,  and  he  would  tell  you  his  whole  descent  from  Adam 
downward,  and  his  whole  private  fortune  to  the  last  shil- 
ling." A  responsible  solid  fellow  was  even  so  much  moved 
by  pity  for  my  inexperience  as  to  give  me  a  word  or  two  of 
good  advice  :  that  I  was  but  a  young  man  after  all — I  had 


THE  GREAT  NORTH  ROAD  109 

at  this  time  a  deceptive  air  of  youth  that  made  me  easily 
pass  for  one-and-twenty,  and  was,  in  the  circumstances, 
worth  a  fortune — that  the  company  at  inns  was  very  min- 
gled, that  I  should  do  well  to  be  more  careful,  and  the 
like  ;  to  all  which  I  made  answer  that  I  meant  no  harm 
myself  and  expected  none  from  others,  or  the  devil  was  in 

it.     "  Yon  are  one  of  those  d d  prudent  fellows  that  I 

could  never  abide  with,"' said  I.  *^'You  are  the  kind  of 
man  that  has  a  long  head.  That's  all  the  world,  my  dear 
sir  :  the  long-heads  and  the  short-horns  !  Now,  I  am  a 
short-horn. ''  "  I  doubt,'' says  he,  ''that  you  will  not  go 
very  far  without  getting  sheared."  I  offered  to  bet  with 
him  on  that,  and  he  made  off,  shaking  his  head. 

But  my  particular  delight  was  to  enlarge  on  jDolitics  and 
the  war.  None  damned  the  French  like  me  ;  none  was 
more  bitter  against  the  Americans.  And  when  the  north- 
bound mail  arrived,  crowned  with  holly,  and  the  coachman 
and  guard  hoarse  with  shouting  victory,  I  went  even  so  far 
as  to  entertain  the  company  to  a  bowl  of  punch,  which  I 
compounded  myself  with  no  illiberal  hand,  and  doled  out 
to  such  sentiments  as  the  following  : — 

''  Our  glorious  victory  on  the  Nivelle  !  "  ^'  Lord  Well- 
ington, God  bless  him  !  and  may  victory  ever  attend  upon 
his  arms  !  "  and,  ^^  Soult,  poor  devil  !  and  may  he  catch  it 
again  to  the  same  tune  !  " 

Never  was  oratory  more  applauded  to  the  echo — never 
any  one  was  more  of  the  popular  man  than  I.  I  promise 
you,  we  made  a  night  of  it.  Some  of  the  company  sup- 
ported each  other,  with  the  assistance  of  boots,  to  their 
respective  bed-chambers,  while  the  rest  slept  on  the  field 
of  glory  where  we  had  left  them  ;  and  at  the  breakfast 
table  the  next  morning  there  was  an  extraordinary  assem- 
blage of  red  eyes  and  shaking  fists.  I  observed  patriotism 
to  burn  much  lower  by  daylight.     Let  no  one  blame  me 


110  ST.    IVES 

for  insensibility  to  the  reverses  of  France  !  God  knows 
how  my  heart  raged.  How  I  longed  to  fall  on  that  herd 
of  swine  and  knock  their  heads  together  in  the  moment  of 
their  revelry  !  But  you  are  to  consider  my  own  situation 
and  its  necessities  ;  also  a  certain  lightheartedness,  emi- 
nently Gallic,  which  forms  a  leading  trait  in  my  character, 
and  leads  me  to  throw  myself  into  new  circumstances  with 
the  spirit  of  a  schoolboy.  It  is  possible  that  I  sometimes 
allowed  this  impish  humour  to  carry  me  further  than  good 
taste  approves  ;  and  I  was  certainly  punished  for  it  once. 

This  was  in  the  episcopal  city  of  Durham.  We  sat  down,  a 
considerable  company,  to  dinner,  most  of  us  fine  old  vatted 
Endish  tories  of  that  class  which  is  often  so  enthusiastic  as 
to  be  inarticulate.  I  took  and  held  the  lead  from  the  be- 
ginning ;  and,  the  talk  having  turned  on  the  French  in 
the  Peninsula,  I  gave  them  authentic  details  (on  the  author- 
ity of  a  cousin  of  mine,  an  ensign)  of  certain  cannibal 
orgies  in  Galicia,  in  which  no  less  a  person  than  General 
Caifarelli  had  taken  a  part.  I  always  disliked  that  com- 
mander, who  once  ordered  me  under  arrest  for  insubordi- 
nation ;  and  it  is  possible  that  a  spice  of  vengeance  added 
to  the  rigour  of  my  picture.  I  have  forgotten  the  details  ; 
no  doubt  they  were  high-coloured.  No  doubt  I  rejoiced  to 
fool  these  jolter-heads  ;  and  no  doubt  the  sense  of  security 
that  I  drank  from  their  dull,  gasping  faces  encouraged  me 
to  proceed  extremely  far.  And  for  my  sins,  there  was  one 
silent  little  man  at  table  who  took  my  story  at  the  true 
value.  It  was  from  no  sense  of  humour,  to  which  he  was 
quite  dead.  It  was  from  no  particular  intelligence,  for  he 
had  not  any.  The  bond  of  sympathy,  of  all  things  in  the 
world,  had  rendered  him  clairvoyant. 

Dinner  was  no  sooner  done  than  I  strolled  forth  into  the 
streets  with  some  design  of  viewing  the  cathedral  ;  and  the 
little  man  was  silently  at  my  heels.     A  few  doors  from  the 


THE   GREAT   NOKTJl    KOAD  111 

inn,  in  a  dark  place  of  the  street,  I  was  aware  of  a  touch  on 
my  arm,  turned  suddenly,  and  found  him  looking  up  at 
me  with  eyes  pathetically  bright. 

^^Ibeg  your  pardon,  sir;  but  that  story  of  yours  was 
particularly  rich.  He — he  !  Particularly  racy,"  said  he. 
"  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  took  you  wholly  !  I  smoked  you  !  I  be- 
lieve you  and  I,  sir,  if  we  had  a  chance  to  talk,  would  find 
we  had  a  good  many  opinions  in  common.  Here  is  the  '^  IMue 
Bell,'  a  very  comfortable  place.  They  draw  good  ale,  sir. 
Would  you  be  so  condescending  as  to  share  a  pot  with  me?" 

There  was  something  so  ambiguous  and  secret  in  the 
little  man's  perpetual  signalling,  that  I  confess  my  curiosity 
was  much  aroused.  Blaming  myself,  even  as  I  did  so,  for 
the  indiscretion,  I  embraced  his  proposal,  and  we  were  soon 
face  to  face  over  a  tankard  of  mulled  ale.  He  lowered  his 
voice  to  the  least  attenuation  of  a  whisper. 

^^Here,  sir,"  said  he,  "  is  to  the  Great  Man.  I  think  you 
take  me  ?  No  ?  "  He  leaned  forward  till  our  noses  almost 
touched.     ^'  Here  is  to  the  Emperor  !  "  said  he. 

I  was  extremely  embarrassed,  and,  in  spite  of  the  creat- 
ure's innocent  appearance,  more  than  half  alarmed.  I 
thought  him  too  ingenuous,  and,  indeed,  too  daring  for  a 
spy.  Yet  if  he  were  honest  he  must  be  a  man  of  extra- 
ordinary indiscretion,  and  therefore  very  unfit  to  be  en- 
couraged by  an  escaped  prisoner.  I  took  a  half  course, 
accordingly — accepted  his  toast  in  silence,  and  drank  it 
without  enthusiasm. 

He  proceeded  to  abound  in  the  praises  of  Napoleon,  such 
as  I  had  never  heard  in  France,  or  at  least  only  on  the  lips 
of  officials  paid  to  offer  them. 

"  And  this  Catfarelli,  now,"  he  pursued  :  "  lie  is  a  splen- 
did fellow,  too,  is  he  not  ?  I  have  not  heard  vastly  mueli 
of  him  myself.  No  details,  sir — no  details  !  We  labour 
under  huge  difficulties  here  as  to  unbiassed  information." 


112  ST.    IVES 

^'l  believe  I  have  heard  the  same  complaint  in  other  conn- 
tries,"  I  conlcl  not  help  remarking.  *'  But  as  to  Caffarelli, 
he  is  neither  lame  nor  blind,  he  has  two  legs,  and  a  nose 
in  the  middle  of  his  face.  And  I  care  as  much  about  him 
as  you  care  for  the  dead  body  of  Mr.  Perceval  ! " 

He  studied  me  with  glowing  eyes. 

'^You  cannot  deceive  me!"  he  cried.  ^' You  have 
served  under  him.  You  are  a  Frenchman  !  I  hold  by  the 
hand,  at  last,  one  of  that  noble  race,  the  pioneers  of  the 
glorious  principles  of  liberty  and  brotherhood.  Hush  I 
No,  it  is  all  right.  I  thought  there  had  been  somebody  at 
the  door.  In  this  wretched,  enslaved  country  we  dare  not 
even  call  our  souls  our  own.  The  spy  and  the  hangman, 
sir — the  spy  and  the  hangman  !  And  yet  there  is  a  candle 
burning,  too.  The  good  leaven  is  working,  sir — working 
underneath.  Even  in  this  town  there  are  a  few  brave 
spirits,  who  meet  every  AVednesday.  You.  must  stay  over 
a  day  or  so,  and  join  us.  We  do  not  use  this  house.  An- 
other, and  a  quieter.  They  draw  fine  ale,  however — fair, 
mild  ale.  You  w^ill  find  yourself  among  friends,  among 
brothers.  You  will  hear  some  very  daring  sentiments  ex- 
pressed !  "  he  cried,  expanding  his  small  chest.  '^  Mon- 
archy, Christianity — all  the  trappings  of  a  bloated  past — 
the  Free  Confraternity  of  Durham  and  Tyneside  deride." 

Here  was  a  devil  of  a  prospect  for  a  gentleman  whose 
whole  design  was  to  avoid  observation  !  The  Free  Con- 
fraternity had  no  charms  for  me  ;  daring  sentiments  were 
no  part  of  my  baggage  ;  and  I  tried,  instead,  a  little  cold 
water. 

"  You  seem  to  forget,  sir,  that  my  Emperor  has  re-estab- 
lished Christianity,"  I  observed. 

*' Ah,  sir,  but  that  was  policy  !  "  he  exclaimed.  '-'You 
do  not  understand  Napoleon.  I  have  followed  his  whole 
career.     I  can  explain  his  policy  from  first  to  last.     Now 


THE   GREAT  NORTH    ROAD  113 

for  instance  in  the  Peninsula,  on  which  you  were  so  very 
amnsing,  if  you  will  come  to  a  friend's  house  who  has  a 
map  of  Spain,  I  can  make  the  whole  course  of  the  war 
quite  clear  to  you,  I  venture  to  say,  in  half  an  hour." 

This  was  intolerable.  Of  the  two  extremes,  I  found  1 
preferred  the  British  tory  ;  and,  making  an  appointment 
for  the  morrow,  I  pleaded  sudden  headache,  escaped  to  tlie 
inn,  packed  my  knapsack,  and  fled,  about  nine  at  night, 
from  this  accursed  neighbourhood.  It  was  cold,  starry,  and 
clear,  and  the  road  dry,  with  a  touch  of  frost  For  all  that, 
I  had  not  the  smallest  intention  to  make  a  long  stage  of  it ; 
and  about  ten  o'clock,  spying  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the 
way  the  lighted  windows  of  an  alehouse,  I  determined  to 
bait  there  for  the  night. 

It  was  against  my  principle,  which  was  to  frequent  only 
the  dearest  inns  ;  and  the  misadventure  that  befell  me  was 
sufficient  to  make  me  more  particular  in  the  future.  A 
large  company  was  assembled  in  the  parlour,  which  was 
heavy  with  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  and  brightly  lighted 
up  by  a  roaring  fire  of  coal.  Hard  by  the  chimney  stood  a 
vacant  chair  in  what  I  thought  an  enviable  situation, 
whether  for  warmth  or  the  pleasures  of  society  ;  and  I  was 
about  to  take  it,  when  the  nearest  of  the  company  stopped 
me  with  his  hand. 

''  Beg  thy  pardon,  sir,"  said  he  ;  '^'^but  that  there  chair 
belongs  to  a  British  soldier." 

A  chorus  of  voices  enforced  and  explained.  It  was  one 
of  Lord  "Wellington's  heroes.  He  had  been  wounded  un- 
der Rowland  Hill.  He  was  Colburne's  right-hand  man. 
In  short,  this  favoured  individual  appeared  to  have  served 
with  every  separate  corps  and  under  every  individual  gen- 
eral in  the  Peninsula.  Of  course  I  apologised.  I  had  not 
known.  The  devil  was  in  it  if  a  soldier  had  not  a  right  to 
the  best  in  England.  And  with  that  sentiment,  which  was 
8 


114  ST.   IVES 

loudly  applauded,  I  found  a  corner  of  a  bench,  and 
awaited,  with  some  hopes  of  entertainment,  the  return  of 
the  hero.  lie  proved,  of  course,  to  be  a  private  soldier.  I 
say  of  course,  because  no  officer  could  possibly  enjoy  such 
heights  of  popularity.  He  had  been  Avounded  before  San 
Sebastian,  and  still  wore  his  arm  in  a  sling.  AVhat  was  a 
great  deal  worse  for  him,  every  member  of  the  company 
had  been  plying  hiui  with  drink.  His  honest  yokeFs 
countenance  blazed  as  if  with  fever,  his  eyes  were  glazed 
and  looked  the  two  ways,  and  his  feet  stumbled  as,  amidst 
a  murmur  of  applause,  he  returned  to  the  midst  of  his 
admirers. 

Two  minutes  afterwards  I  was  again  posting  in  the  dark 
along  the  highway  ;  to  explain  which  sudden  movement  of 
retreat  I  must  trouble  the  reader  with  a  reminiscence  of  my 
services. 

I  lay  one  night  with  the  out-pickets  in  Castile.  We 
were  in  close  touch  with  the  enemy  ;  the  usual  orders  had 
been  issued  against  smoking,  fires,  and  talk,  and  both 
armies  lay  as  quiet  as  mice,  when  I  saw  the  English  senti- 
nel opposite  making  a  signal  by  holding  up  his  musket.  I 
repeated  it,  and  we  both  crept  together  in  the  dry  bed  of 
a  stream,  which  made  the  demarcation  of  the  armies.  It 
was  wine  he  wanted,  of  which  we  had  a  good  provision,  and 
the  English  had  quite  run  out.  He  gave  me  the  money, 
and  I,  as  was  the  custom,  left  him  my  firelock  in  pledge, 
and  set  off  for  the  canteen.  When  I  returned  with  a  skin 
of  wine,  behold,  it  had  pleased  some  uneasy  devil  of  an 
English  officer  to  withdraw  the  outposts  !  Here  was  a 
situation  with  a  vengeance,  and  I  looked  for  nothing  but 
ridicule  in  the  present  and  punishment  in  the  future. 
Doubtless  our  officers  winked  pretty  hard  at  this  inter- 
change of  courtesies,  but  doubtless  it  Avould  be  impossible 
to  wink  at  so  gross  a  fault,  or  rather  so  pitiable  a  misad- 


THE   GREAT   NORTH    ROAD  115 

venture  as  mine  ;  and  yon  are  to  conceive  me  wanderino- 
in  the  plains  of  Castile,  benighted,  charged  with  a  wine- 
skin for  which  I  had  no  nse,  and  with  no  knowledge  wliat- 
ever  of  the  whereabouts  of  my  musket  beyond  that  it  was 
somewhere  in  my  Lord  Wellington's  army.  But  my  Eng- 
lishman was  either  a  very  honest  fellow,  or  else  extremely 
thirsty,  and  at  last  contrived  to  advertise  me  of  his  new 
position.  Now,  the  English  sentry  in  Castile  and  tlie 
wounded  hero  in  the  Durham  public-house  were  one  and 
the  same  person  ;  and  if  he  had  been  a  little  less  drunk,  or 
myself  less  lively  in  getting  away,  the  travels  of  M.  St.  Ives 
might  have  come  to  an  untimely  end. 

I  suppose  this  woke  me  up  ;  it  stirred  in  me  besides  a 
spirit  of  opposition,  and  in  spite  of  cold,  darkness,  the 
highwaymen  and  the  footpads,  I  determined  to  walk  right 
on  until  breakfast-time  :  a  happy  resolution,  which  enabled 
me  to  observe  one  of  those  traits  of  manners  which  at  once 
depict  a  country  and  condemn  it.  It  was  near  midnight 
when  I  saw,  a  great  way  ahead  of  me,  the  light  of  many 
torches  ;  presently  after,  the  sound  of  wheels  reached  me 
and  the  slow  tread  of  feet,  and  soon  I  had  joined  myself  to 
the  rear  of  a  sordid,  silent,  and  lugubrious  procession,  such 
as  we  see  in  dreams.  Close  on  a  hundred  persons  marched 
by  torchlight  in  unbroken  silence  ;  in  their  midst  a  cart, 
and  in  the  cart,  on  an  inclined  platform,  the  dead  body  of 
a  man — the  centre-piece  of  this  solemnity,  the  hero  whose 
obsequies  we  were  come  forth  at  this  unusual  hour  to  cele- 
brate. It  was  but  a  j^lain,  dingy  old  fellow  of  fifty  or 
sixty,  his  throat  cut,  his  shirt  turned  over  as  though  to 
show  the  wound.  Blue  trousers  and  brown  socks  com- 
pleted his  attire,  if  we  can  talk  so  of  the  dead.  He  had  a 
horrid  look  of  a  waxwork.  In  the  tossing  of  the  lights  he 
seemed  to  make  faces  and  mouths  at  us,  to  frown,  and  to 
be  at  times  upon  the  point  of  speech.     The  cart,  with  this 


116  ST.   IVES 

shabby  and  tragic  freight,  and  surrounded  by  its  silent  es- 
cort and  bright  torches,  continued  for  some  distance  to 
creak  along  the  high  road,  and  I  to  follow  it  in  amazement, 
which  was  soon  exchanged  for  horror.  At  the  corner  of 
a  lane  the  procession  stopped,  and  as  the  torches  ranged 
themselves  along  the  hedgerow-side,  I  became  aware  of  a 
grave  dug  in  the  midst  of  the  thoroughfare,  and  a  provi- 
sion of  quicklime  piled  in  the  ditch.  The  cart  was  backed 
to  the  margin,  the  body  slung  off  the  platform  and  dumped 
into  the  grave  with  an  irreverent  roughness.  A  sharpened 
stake  had  hitherto  served  it  for  a  pillow.  It  was  now  with- 
drawn, held  in  its  place  by  several  volunteers,  and  a  fellow 
with  a  heavy  mallet  (the  sound  of  which  still  haunts  me  at 
night)  drove  it  home  through  the  bosom  of  the  corpse. 
The  hole  w\as  filled  with  quicklime,  and  the  bystanders,  as 
if  relieved  of  some  oppression,  broke  at  once  into  a  sound 
of  whispered  speech. 

My  shirt  stuck  to  me,  my  heart  had  almost  ceased  beat- 
ing, and  I  found  my  tongue  with  difficulty. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  gasped  to  a  neighbour,  '^  what  is 
this  ?  what  has  he  done  ?  is  it  allowed  V 

^^  Why,  where  do  you  come  from  ?''  replied  the  man. 

''I  am  a  traveller,  sir,"  said  I,  ''and  a  total  stranger  in 
this  part  of  the  country.  I  had  lost  my  way  when  I  saw 
your  torches,  and  came  by  chance  on  this — this  incredible 
scene.     Who  was  the  man  ?  " 

''A  suicide,"  said  he.  ''Ay,  he  was  a  bad  one,  was 
Johnnie  Green." 

It  appeared  this  was  a  wretch  who  had  committed  many 
barbarous  murders,  and  being  at  last  upon  the  point  of  dis- 
covery fell  of  his  own  hand.  And  the  nightmare  at  the 
cross-roads  was  the  regular  punishment,  according  to  the 
laws  of  England,  for  an  act  which  the  Romans  honoured 
as  a  virtue  !     Whenever  an  Englishman  begins  to  prate  of 


THE  GREAT  NORTH  ROAD  117 

civilisation  (as,  indeed,  it's  a  defect  tliey  are  rather  prone 
to),  I  hear  the  measured  blows  of  a  mallet,  see  the  bystand- 
ers crowd  with  torches  about  the  grave,  smile  a  little  to 
myself  in  conscious  superiority — and  take  a  thimbleful  of 
brandy  for  the  stomach's  sake. 

I  believe  it  must  have  been  at  my  next  stage,  for  I 
remember  going  to  bed  extremely  early,  that  I  came  to  the 
model  of  a  good  old-fashioned  English  inn,  and  was  at- 
tended on  by  the  picture  of  a  pretty  chambermaid.  We 
had  a  good  many  pleasant  passages  as  she  waited  table  or 
warmed  my  bed  for  me  with  a  devil  of  a  brass  warming- 
pan,  fully  larger  than  herself  ;  and  as  she  was  no  less  pert 
than  she  was  pretty,  she  may  be  said  to  have  given  rather 
better  than  she  took.  I  cannot  tell  why  (unless  it  were  for 
the  sake  of  her  saucy  eyes),  but  I  made  her  my  confidante, 
told  her  I  was  attached  to  a  young  lady  in  Scotland,  and 
received  the  encouragement  of  her  sympathy,  mingled  and 
connected  with  a  fair  amount  of  rustic  wit.  While  I  slept 
the  down-mail  stopped  for  supper  ;  it  chanced  that  one  of 
the  passengers  left  behind  a  copy  of  the  Edi7ihiirgh  Cou- 
rant,  and  the  next  morning  my  pretty  chambermaid  set  the 
paper  before  me  at  breakfast,  with  the  remark  that  there 
was  some  news  from  my  lady-love.  I  took  it  eagerly,  hop- 
ing to  find  some  farther  word  of  our  escape,  in  which  I  was 
disappointed ;  and  I  was  about  to  lay  it  down,  when  my 
eye  fell  on  a  paragraph  immediately  concerning  me.  Faa 
was  in  hospital,  grievously  sick,  and  warrants  were  out  for 
the  arrest  of  Sim  and  Candlish.  These  two  men  had  shown 
themselves  very  loyal  to  me.  This  trouble  emerging,  the 
least  I  could  do  was  to  be  guided  by  a  similar  loyalty  to 
them.  Suppose  my  visit  to  my  uncle  crowned  with  some 
success,  and  my  finances  re-established,  I  determined  I 
should  immediately  return  to  Edinburgh,  put  their  case  in 
the  hands  of  a  good  lawyer,  and  await  events.     So  my  mind 


118  ST.    IVES 

was  very  lightly  made  up  to  what  proved  a  mighty  serions 
matter.  Candlisli  and  Sim  were  all  very  well  in  their  way, 
and  I  do  sincerely  trust  I  should  have  been  at  some  pains 
to  help  them,  had  there  been  nothing  else.  But  in  truth 
my  eyes  and  my  heart  were  set  on  quite  another  matter, 
and  I  received  the  news  of  their  tribulation  almost  with 
joy.  That  is  never  a  bad  wind  that  blows  where  we  want 
to  go,  and  you  may  be  sure  there  was  nothing  unwelcome 
in  a  circumstance  that  carried  me  back  to  Edinburgh  and 
Flora.  From  that  hour  I  began  to  indulge  myself  with  the 
making  of  imaginary  scenes  and  interviews,  in  which  I  con- 
founded the  aunt,  flattered  Ronald,  and  now  in  the  witty, 
now  in  the  sentimental  manner,  declared  my  love  and 
received  the  assurance  of  its  return.  By  means  of  this  ex- 
ercise my  resolution  daily  grew  stronger,  until  at  last  I  had 
piled  together  such  a  mass  of  obstinacy  as  it  would  have 
taken  a  cataclysm  of  nature  to  subvert. 

'^^  Yes,''  said  I  to  the  chambermaid,  "  here  is  news  of  my 
lady-love  indeed,  and  very  good  news  too.'' 

All  that  day,  in  the  teeth  of  a  keen  winter  wind,  I 
hugged  myself  in  my  plaid,  and  it  was  as  though  her  arms 
were  flung  around  me. 


CHAPTER  XII 

I   FOLLOW  A  COVEKED   CART   NEARLY  TO   MY   DESTIN-ATION 

At  last  I  began  to  draw  near,  by  reasonable  stages,  tc 
the  neighbourhood  of  Wakefield  ;  and  the  name  of  Mr. 
Burchell  Fenn  came  to  the  top  in  my  memory.  This  was 
the  gentleman  (the  reader  may  remember)  who  made  a 
trade  of  forwarding  the  escape  of  French  prisoners.  How 
he  did  so  :  whether  he  had  a  signboard.  Escapes  for- 
warded, ajjply  2i)ithin ;  what  he  charged  for  his  services, 
or  whether  they  were  gratuitous  and  charitable,  were  all 
matters  of  which  I  was  at  once  ignorant  and  extremely 
curious.  Thanks  to  my  proficiency  in  English,  and  Mr. 
Romaine's  bank-notes,  I  was  getting  on  swimmingly  with- 
out him  ;  but  the  trouble  was  that  I  could  not  be  easy  till 
I  had  come  at  the  bottom  of  these  mysteries,  and  it  was  my 
difficulty  that  I  knew  nothing  of  him  beyond  the  name. 
I  kuew  not  his  trade — beyond  that  of  Forwarder  of  Es- 
capes— whether  he  lived  in  town  or  country,  whether  he 
were  rich  or  poor,  nor  by  what  kind  of  address  I  was  to 
gain  his  confidence.  It  would  have  a  very  bad  appearance 
to  go  along  the  highwayside  asking  after  a  man  of  whom  I 
could  give  so  scanty  an  account  ;  and  I  should  look  like  a 
fool,  indeed,  if  I  were  to  present  myself  at  his  door  and 
find  the  police  in  occupation  !  The  interest  of  the  conun- 
drum, however,  tempted  me,  and  I  turned  aside  from  my 
direct  road  to  pass  by  Wakefield  ;  kept  my  ears  pricked  as 
I  went  for  any  mention  of  his  name,  and  relied  for  tlie  rest 

119 


120  ST.    IVES 

on  my  good  fortune.  If  Luck  (who  must  certainly  be  fem- 
inine) favoured  me  as  far  as  to  tlirow  me  in  the  man's  way, 
I  should  owe  the  lady  a  candle  ;  if  not,  I  could  very  readily 
console  myself.  In  this  exj^erimental  humour,  and  with 
so  little  to  help  me,  it  was  a  miracle  that  I  should  have 
brought  my  enterprise  to  a  good  end  ;  and  there  are  sev- 
eral saints  in  the  calendar  who  might  be  happy  to  exchange 
with  St.  Ives  ! 

I  had  slept  the  night  in  a  good  inn  at  Wakefield,  made 
my  breakfast  by  candle-light  with  the  passengers  of  an  up- 
coach,  and  set  off  in  a  very  ill  temper  witli  myself  and  my 
surroundings.  It  was  still  early  ;  the  air  raw  and  cold  ; 
the  sun  low,  and  soon  to  disappear  under  a  vast  canopy  of 
rain-clouds  that  had  begun  to  assemble  in  the  north-w^est, 
and  from  that  quarter  invaded  the  whole  width  of  the 
heaven.  Already  the  rain  fell  in  crystal  rods  ;  already  the 
whole  face  of  the  country  sounded  with  the  discharge  of 
drains  and  ditches  ;  and  I  looked  forward  to  a  day  of  down- 
pour and  the  hell  of  wet  clothes,  in  which  23articular  I  am 
as  dainty  as  a  cat.  At  a  corner  of  the  road,  and  by  the  last 
glint  of  the  drowning  sun,  I  spied  a  covered  cart,  of  a  kind 
that  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  before,  preceding  me  at 
the  foot's  pace  of  jaded  horses.  Anything  is  interesting  to 
a  pedestrian  that  can  help  him  to  forget  the  miseries  of  a 
day  of  rain  ;  and  I  bettered  my  pace  and  gradually  over- 
took the  vehicle. 

The  nearer  I  came,  the  more  it  puzzled  me.  It  was  much 
such  a  cart  as  I  am  told  the  calico  printers  use,  mounted 
on  two  wheels,  and  furnished  with  a  seat  in  front  for  the 
driver.  The  interior  closed  with  a  door,  and  was  of  a  big- 
ness to  contain  a  good  load  of  calico,  or  (at  a  pinch  and  if 
it  were  necessary)  four  or  five  persons.  But,  indeed,  if 
human  beings  Avere  meant  to  travel  there,  they  had  my 
pity  I     They   must   travel  in  the  dark,  for  there  was  no 


I   FOLLOW   A   COVERED   CART  121 

sign  of  a  window  ;  and  tliey  would  be  shaken  all  the  way 
like  a  phial  of  doctor's  stuff,  for  the  cart  was  not  only  un- 
gainly to  look  at — it  was  besides  very  imperfectly  balanced 
on  the  one  pair  of  wheels,  and  pitched  unconscionably. 
Altogether,  if  I  had  any  glancing  idea  that  the  cart  was 
really  a  carriage,  I  had  soon  dismissed  it ;  but  1  was  still 
inquisitive  as  to  what  it  should  contain,  and  where  it  had 
come  from.  Wheels  and  horses  were  splashed  with  many 
different  colours  of  mud,  as  though  they  had  come  far  and 
across  a  considerable  diversity  of  country.  The  driver  con- 
tinually and  vainly  plied  his  whip.  It  seemed  to  follow 
they  had  made  a  long,  perhaps  an  all-night,  stage ;  and 
that  the  driver,  at  that  early  hour  of  a  little  after  eight  in 
the  morning,  already  felt  himself  belated.  1  looked  for  the 
name  of  the  proprietor  on  the  shaft,  and  started  outright. 
Fortune  had  favoured  the  careless  :  it  was  Burchell  Fenn  ! 

^^A  wet  morning,  my  man,^'  said  I. 

The  driver,  a  loutish  fellow,  shock-headed  and  turnip- 
faced,  returned  not  a  word  to  my  salutation,  but  savagely 
flogged  his  horses.  The  tired  animals,  who  could  scarce 
put  the  one  foot  before  the  other,  paid  no  attention  to  his 
cruelty  ;  and  I  continued  without  effort  to  maintain  my 
position  alongside,  smiling  to  myself  at  the  futility  of  his 
attempts,  and  at  the  same  time  pricked  with  curiosity  as 
to  why  he  made  them.  I  made  no  such  formidable  a  fig- 
ure as  that  a  man  should  flee  when  I  accosted  him ;  and 
my  conscience  not  being  entirely  clear,  I  was  more  accus- 
tomed to  be  uneasy  myself  than  to  see  others  timid.  Pres- 
ently he  desisted,  and  put  back  his  whip  in  the  holster  with 
tlie  air  of  a  man  vanquished. 

''So  you  would  run  away  from  me  ?"  said  I.  *^Come, 
come,  that's  not  English.'' 

"  Beg  pardon,  master  :  no  offence  meant,''  he  said,  touch- 
ing his  hat. 


122  ST.    IVESf^ 

'^And  none  taken  !"  cried  I.  ^' All  I  desire  is  a  little 
gaiety  by  the  way." 

I  understood  him  to  say  he  didn't  "  take  with  gaiety." 

"  Then  I  will  try  you  with  something  else,"  said  I.  "  0, 1 
can  be  all  things  to  all  men,  like  the  apostle  !  I  dare  to 
say  I  have  travelled  with  heavier  fellows  than  you  in  my 
time,  and  done  famously  well  with  them.  Are  you  going 
home?" 

^^  Yes,  Fm  a  goin^  home,  I  am,"  he  said. 

"A  very  fortunate  circumstance  for  me  I "  said  I.  ^^  At 
this  rate  we  shall  see  a  good  deal  of  each  other,  going  the 
same  way  ;  and,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  why  should  you 
not  give  me  a  cast  ?  There  is  room  beside  you  on  the 
bench." 

AVith  a  sudden  snatch,  he  carried  the  cart  two  yards  into 
the  roadway.  The  horses  plunged  and  came  to  a  stop. 
''  No,  you  don't  ! "  he  said,  menacing  me  with  the  whip. 
"None  o'  that  with  me." 

"  None  of  what  ?  "  said  I.  "  I  asked  you  for  a  lift,  but 
I  have  no  idea  of  taking  one  by  force." 

"  Well,  I've  got  to  take  care  of  the  cart  and  'orses,  I 
have,"  says  he.  "  I  don't  take  up  with  no  runagate  vaga- 
bones,  you  see,  else." 

"  I  ought  to  thank  you  for  your  touching  confidence," 
said  I,  approaching  carelessly  nearer  as  I  spoke.  "But  I 
admit  the  road  is  solitary  hereabouts,  and  no  doubt  an  ac- 
cident soon  happens.  Little  fear  of  anything  of  the  kind 
with  you  !  I  like  you  for  it,  like  your  prudence,  like  that 
pastoral  shyness  of  disposition.  But  why  not  put  it  out 
of  my  power  to  hurt  ?  Why  not  open  the  door  and  bestow 
me  here  in  the  box,  or  whatever  you  please  to  call  it  ?  " 
And  I  laid  my  hand  demonstratively  on  the  body  of  the 
cart. 

He  had  been  timorous  before  ;  but  at  this,  he  seemed  to 


I  FOLLOW  A  COVERED  CART         123 

lose  the  power  of  speech  a  moment,  and  stared  at  me  in  a 
perfect  enthusiasm  of  fear. 

'MVhy  not?'^  I  continued.  ''The  idea  is  good.  I 
should  be  safe  in  there  if  I  were  the  monster  Williams 
himself.  The  great  thing  is  to  have  me  under  lock  and 
key.  For  it  does  lock  ;  it  is  locked  now/^  said  I,  trying  the 
door.  "  Apropos,  what  have  you  for  a  cargo  ?  It  must  be 
precious.''' 

He  found  not  a  word  to  answer. 

Eat- tat- tat,  I  went  upon  the  door  like  a  well-drilled 
footman.  "Any  one  at  home?"  I  said,  and  stooped  to 
listen. 

There  came  out  of  the  interior  a  stifled  sneeze,  the  first 
of  an  uncontrollable  paroxysm ;  another  followed  imme- 
diately on  the  heels  of  it ;  and  then  the  driver  turned  with 
an  oath,  laid  the  lash  upon  the  horses  with  so  much  energy 
that  they  found  their  heels  again,  and  the  whole  equipage 
fled  down  the  road  at  a  gallop. 

At  the  first  sound  of  the  sneeze,  I  had  started  back  like  a 
man  shot.  The  next  moment,  a  great  light  broke  on  my 
mind,  and  I  understood.  Here  was  the  secret  of  Fenn's 
trade  :  this  was  how  he  forwarded  the  escape  of  prisoners, 
hawking  them  by  night  about  the  country  in  his  covered 
cart.  There  had  been  Frenchmen  close  to  me  ;  he  who  had 
just  sneezed  was  my  countryman,  my  comrade,  perhaps 
already  my  friend  !  I  took  to  my  heels  in  pursuit.  "'  Hold 
hard  ! "  I  shouted.  "  Stop  !  It's  all  right  !  Stop  ! ''  But 
the  driver  only  turned  a  white  face  on  me  for  a  moment, 
and  redoubled  his  efforts,  bending  forward,  plying  his  whip 
and  crying  to  his  horses  ;  these  lay  themselves  down  to  the 
gallop  and  beat  the  highway  with  flying  hoofs  ;  and  the 
cart  bounded  after  them  among  the  ruts  and  fled  in  a  halo 
of  rain  and  spattering  mud.  But  a  minute  since,  and  it 
had  been  trundling  along  like  a  lame  cow  ;  and  now  it  was 


124  ST.   IVES 

off  as  though  drawn  by  Apollo's  coursers.  There  is  no 
telling  what  a  man  can  do,  until  you  frighten  him  ! 

It  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  myself,  though  I  ran  val- 
iantly, to  maintain  my  distance ;  and  that  (since  I  knew 
my  countrymen  so  near)  was  become  a  chief  point  with  me. 
A  hundred  yards  farther  on  the  cart  Avhipped  out  of  the 
high  road  into  a  lane  embowered  with  leafless  trees,  and 
became  lost  to  view.  When  I  saw  it  next,  the  driver  had 
increased  his  advantage  considerably,  but  all  danger  was 
at  an  end,  and  the  horses  had  again  declined  into  a  hob- 
bling walk.  Persuaded  that  they  could  not  escape  me,  I 
took  my  time,  and  recovered  my  breath  as  I  followed 
them. 

Presently  the  lane  twisted  at  right  angles,  and  showed 
me  a  gate  and  the  beginning  of  a  gravel  sweep  ;  and  a  little 
after,  as  I  continued  to  advance,  a  red  brick  house  about 
seventy  years  old,  in  a  fine  style  of  architecture,  and  pre- 
senting a  front  of  many  windows  to  a  lawn  and  garden. 
Behind,  I  could  see  outhouses  and  the  peaked  roofs  of 
stacks  ;  and  I  judged  that  a  manor-house  had  in  some  way 
declined  to  be  the  residence  of  a  tenant-farmer,  careless 
alike  of  appearances  and  substantial  comfort.  The  marks 
of  neglect  were  visible  on  every  side,  in  flower-bushes  strag- 
gling beyond  the  borders,  in  the  ill-kept  turf,  and  in  the 
broken  windows  that  were  incongruously  patched  with 
paper  or  stuifed  with  rags.  A  thicket  of  trees,  mostly  ever- 
green, fenced  the  place  round  and  secluded  it  from  the 
eyes  of  prying  neighbours.  As  I  came  in  view  of  it.  on 
that  melancholy  winters  morning,  in  the  deluge  of  tlie 
falling  rain,  and  with  the  wind  that  now  rose  in  occasional 
gusts  and  hooted  over  the  old  chimneys,  the  cart  had 
already  drawn  up  at  the  front  door  steps,  and  the  driver 
was  already  in  earnest  discourse  with  ^Ir.  Burchell  Fenn. 
He  was  standing  with  his  hands  behind  his  back — a  man  of 


I  FOLLOW  A  COVERED  CART  125 

a  gross,  misbegotten  face  and  body,  dewlapped  like  a  bull 
and  red  as  a  harvest  moon ;  and  in  his  jockey  cap,  blue 
coat  and  top  boots,  he  had  much  the  air  of  a  good,  solid 
tenant-farmer. 

The  pair  continued  to  speak  as  I  came  up  the  approach, 
but  received  me  at  last  in  a  sort  of  goggling  silence.  I  had 
my  hat  in  my  hand. 

"  I  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn  ?  " 
said  I. 

"  The  same,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Fenn,  taking  off  his  jockey 
cap  in  answer  to  my  civility,  but  with  the  distant  look  and 
the  tardy  movements  of  one  who  continues  to  think  of 
something  else.     "  And  who  may  you  be  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  shall  tell  you  afterwards,"'  said  I.  "  Suffice  it,  in 
the  meantime,  that  I  come  on  business." 

He  seemed  to  digest  my  answer  laboriously,  his  mouth 
gaping,  his  little  eyes  never  straying  from  my  face. 

"  Suffer  me  to  point  out  to  you,  sir,"  I  resumed,  '^that 
this  is  a  devil  of  a  wet  morning  ;  and  that  the  chimney 
corner,  and  possibly  a  glass  of  something  hot,  are  clearly 
indicated." 

ludeed,  the  rain  was  now  grown  to  be  a  deluge  ;  the  gut- 
ters of  the  house  roared  ;  the  air  was  filled  with  the  con- 
tinuous, strident  crash.  The  stolidity  of  his  face,  on  which 
the  rain  streamed,  was  far  from  reassuring  me.  On  the 
contrary,  I  was  aware  of  a  distinct  qualm  of  apprehension, 
which  was  not  at  all  lessened  by  a  view  of  tlie  driver,  cran- 
ing from  his  perch  to  observe  us  with  the  expression  of  a 
fascinated  bird.  So  we  stood  silent,  when  the  prisoner 
again  began  to  sneeze  from  the  body  of  the  cart ;  and  at 
the  sound,  prompt  as  a  transformation,  the  driver  had 
whipped  up  his  horses  and  was  shambling  off  round  the 
corner  of  the  house,  and  Mr.  Fenn,  recovering  his  wits 
with  a  gulp,  had  turned  to  the  door  behind  him. 


126  ST.   IVES 

^'  Come  in,  come  in,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  beg  your  pardon, 
sir  ;  the  lock  goes  a  trifle  hard.^' 

Indeed,  it  took  him  a  surprising  time  to  open  the  door, 
which  was  not  only  locked  on  the  outside,  but  the  lock 
seemed  rebellious  from  disuse  ;  and  when  at  last  he  stood 
back  and  motioned  me  to  enter  before  him,  I  was  greeted 
on  the  threshold  by  that  peculiar  and  convincing  sound  of 
the  rain  echoing  over  empty  chambers.  The  entrance  hall, 
in  which  I  now  found  myself,  was  of  a  good  size  and  good 
proportions  ;  potted  plants  occupied  the  corners  ;  the 
paved  floor  was  soiled  with  muddy  footprints  and  encum- 
bered with  straw  ;  on  a  mahogany  hall  table,  which  was  the 
only  furniture,  a  candle  had  been  stuck  and  suffered  to 
burn  down — plainly  a  long  while  ago,  for  the  gutterings 
were  green  with  mould.  My  mind,  under  these  new  im- 
pressions, worked  with  unusual  vivacity.  I  was  here  shut 
off  with  Fenn  and  his  hireling  in  a  deserted  house,  a  neg- 
lected garden,  and  a  wood  of  evergreens  :  the  most  eligible 
theatre  for  a  deed  of  darkness.  There  came  to  me  a  vision 
of  two  flags  raised  in  the  hall  floor,  and  the  driver  putting 
in  the  rainy  afternoon  over  my  grave,  and  the  prospect 
displeased  me  extremely.  I  felt  I  had  carried  my  pleasantry 
as  far  as  was  safe  ;  I  must  lose  no  time  in  declaring  my 
true  character,  and  I  was  even  choosing  the  words  in  which 
I  was  to  begin,  when  the  hall  door  was  slammed  to  behind 
me  with  a  bang,  and  I  turned,  dropping  my  stick  as  I  did 
so,  in  time — and  not  any  more  than  time — to  save  my  life. 

The  surprise  of  the  onslaught  and  the  huge  weight  of 
my  assailant  gave  him  the  advantage.  He  had  a  pistol  in 
his  right  hand  of  a  portentous  size,  which  it  took  me  all 
my  strength  to  keep  deflected.  With  his  left  arm  he 
strained  me  to  his  bosom,  so  that  I  thought  I  must  be 
crushed  or  stifled.  His  mouth  was  open,  his  face  crimson, 
and  he  panted  aloud  with  hard  animal  sounds.     The  affair 


I   FOLLOW   A   COVEllED   CART  127 

was  as  brief  as  it  was  hot  and  sudden.  The  potations  which 
had  swelled  and  bloated  his  carcase  had  already  weakened 
the  springs  of  energy.  One  more  huge  effort,  that  came 
near  to  overpower  me,  and  in  which  the  pistol  happily  ex- 
ploded, and  I  felt  his  grasp  slacken  and  weakness  come  on 
his  joints ;  his  legs  succumbed  under  his  weight,  and  he 
grovelled  on  his  knees  on  the  stone  floor.  "  Spare  me  !  " 
he  gasped. 

I  had  not  only  been  abominably  frightened ;  I  was 
shocked  besides :  my  delicacy  was  in  arms,  like  a  lady  to 
whom  violence  should  have  been  offered  by  a  similar  mon- 
ster. I  plucked  myself  from  his  horrid  contact,  I  snatched 
the  pistol — even  discharged,  it  was  a  formidable  weapon — 
and  menaced  him  with  the  butt.  "  Spare  you  !  "  I  cried  : 
''  you  beast  !  " 

His  voice  died  in  his  fat  inwards,  but  his  lips  still  vehe- 
mently framed  the  same  words  of  supplication.  My  anger 
began  to  pass  off,  but  not  all  my  rei^ugnance  ;  the  picture 
he  made  revolted  me,  and  I  was  imjoatient  to  be  spared  the 
further  view  of  it. 

"  Here,^^  said  I,  ^'  stop  this  performance  :  it  sickens  me. 
I  am  not  going  to  kill  you,  do  you  hear  ?  I  have  need  of 
you." 

A  look  of  relief,  that  I  could  almost  have  called  beauti- 
ful, dawned  on  his  countenance.  "^  Anything — anything 
you  wish,"  said  he. 

Anything  is  a  big  word,  and  his  use  of  it  brought  me 
for  a  moment  to  a  stand.  ''  Why,  what  do  you  mean  ?"  I 
asked.  ''  Do  you  mean  that  you  will  blow  the  gaff  on  the 
whole  business  ?  " 

He  answered  me  Yes  with  eager  asseverations. 

''  I  know  Monsieur  de  Saint- Yves  is  in  it ;  it  was  through 
his  papers  we  traced  you,"  I  said.  ''  Do  you  consent  to 
make  a  clean  breast  of  the  others  ?  " 


128  ST.   IVES 

^'  I  do — I  will  ! "  he  cried.  "  The  'ole  crew  of  'em  ; 
there's  good  names  among  'em.     I'll  be  king's  evidence." 

''  So  that  all  shall  hang  except  yourself  ?  You  damned 
villain  !  "  I  broke  out.  "  Understand  at  once  that  I  am 
no  spy  or  thief-taker.  I  am  a  kinsman  of  Monsieur  de 
St.  Yves — here  in  his  interest.  Upon  my  word,  you  have 
put  your  foot  in  it  prettily,  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn  !  Come, 
stand  up  ;  don't  grovel  there.  Stand  up,  you  lump  of 
iniquity  ! " 

He  scrambled  to  his  feet.  He  was  utterly  unmanned, 
or  it  might  have  gone  hard  with  me  yet ;  and  I  considered 
him  hesitating,  as,  indeed,  there  was  cause.  The  man  was 
a  double-dyed  traitor  :  he  had  tried  to  murder  me,  and  I 
had  first  baffled  his  endeavours  and  then  exposed  and  in- 
sulted him.  Was  it  wise  to  place  myself  any  longer  at  his 
mercy  ?  With  his  help  I  should  doubtless  travel  more 
quickly  ;  doubtless  also  far  less  agreeably ;  and  there  was 
everything  to  show  that  it  would  be  at  a  greater  risk.  In 
short,  I  should  have  washed  my  hands  of  him  on  the  spot, 
but  for  the  temptation  of  the  French  officers,  whom  I  knew 
to  be  so  near,  and  for  whose  society  I  felt  so  great  and  nat- 
ural an  impatience.  If  I  was  to  see  anything  of  my  coun- 
trymen, it  was  clear  I  had  first  of  all  to  make  my  peace 
with  Mr.  Fenn  ;  and  that  was  no  easy  matter.  To  make 
friends  with  any  one  implies  concessions  on  both  sides  ; 
and  what  could  I  concede  ?  What  could  I  say  of  him,  but 
that  he  had  proved  himself  a  villain  and  a  fool,  and  the 


worse  man 


^MVell,"  said  I,  ^Miere  has  been  rather  a  poor  piece  of 
business,  which  I  daresay  you  can  have  no  pleasure  in  call- 
ing to  mind ;  and,  to  say  truth,  I  would  as  readily  forget 
it  myself.  Suppose  we  try.  Take  back  your  pistol,  which 
smells  very  ill ;  put  it  in  your  pocket  or  wherever  you  had 
it  concealed.    There  !    Now  let  us  meet  for  the  first  time. — 


I  FOLLOW  A  COVERED  CART  129 

Give  you  good  morning,  Mr.  Fenn  !  I  hope  you  do  very 
well.  I  come  on  the  recommendation  of  my  kinsman,  the 
Vicomte  de  St.  Yves.'' 

"Do  you  mean  it  ?''  he  cried.  "Do  you  mean  you  will 
pass  over  our  little  scrimmage  ?  " 

" Why,  certainly  ! "  said  I.  "It  shows  you  are  a  bold 
fellow,  who  may  be  trusted  to  forget  the  business  when  it 
comes  to  the  point.  There  is  nothing  against  you  in  the 
little  scrimmage,  unless  that  your  courage  is  greater  than 
your  strength.  You  are  not  so  young  as  you  once  were, 
that  is  all." 

"  And  I  beg  of  you,  sir,  don't  betray  me  to  the  Vis- 
count," he  pleaded.  "Til  not  deny  but  what  my  'eart 
failed  me  a  trifle  ;  but  it  was  only  a  word,  sir,  what  any- 
body might  have  said  in  the  'eat  of  the  moment,  and  over 
with  it." 

"  Certainly,"  said  I.     "  That  is  quite  my  own  opinion." 

"  The  way  I  came  to  be  anxious  about  the  V^is-count," 
he  continued,  "  is  that  I  believe  he  might  be  induced  to 
form  an  'asty  judgment.  And  the  business,  in  a  pecuniary 
point  of  view,  is  all  that  I  could  ask  ;  only  trying,  sir — 
very  trying.  It's  making  an  old  man  of  me  before  my  time. 
You  might  have  observed  yourself,  sir,  that  I  'aven't  got 
the  knees  I  once  'ad.  The  knees  and  the  breathing,  there's 
where  it  takes  me.  But  I'm  very  sure,  sir,  I  address  a  gen- 
tleman as  would  be  the  last  to  make  trouble  between 
friends." 

"I  am  sure  you  do  me  no  more  than  justice,"  said  I ; 
'^and  I  shall  think  it  quite  unnecessary  to  dwell  on  any  of 
these  passing  circumstances  in  my  reiwrt  to  the  Vicomte." 

"  Which  you  do  favour  him  (if  you'll  excuse  me  being  so 

bold  as  to  mention  it)  exac'ly  !  "  said  he.     "  I  should  have 

known  you  anywheres.     May  I  offer  you  a  pot  of  'ome- 

brewed  ale,  sir  ?    By  your  leave !    This  way,  if  you  please. 

9 


130  ST.   IVES 

I  am  'eartily  grateful — 'eartily  pleased  to  be  of  any  service 
to  a  gentleman  like  you,  sir,  wliich  is  related  to  the  Vis- 
count, and  really  a  fambly  of  which  you  might  well  be 
proud  !  Take  care  of  the  step,  sir.  You  have  good  news 
of  'is  'ealth,  I  trust  ?  as  well  as  that  of  Monseer  the  Count  ?  " 

God  forgive  me  !  the  horrible  fellow  was  still  pufnng  and 
panting  Avith  the  fury  of  his  assault,  and  already  he  had 
fallen  into  an  obsequious,  wheedling  familiarity  like  that 
of  an  old  servant, — already  he  was  flattering  me  on  my  fam- 
ily connections ! 

I  followed  him  through  the  house  into  the  stable-yard, 
where  I  observed  the  driver  washing  the  cart  in  a  shed. 
He  must  have  heard  the  explosion  of  the  j^istol.  He  could 
not  choose  but  hear  it :  the  thing  was  shaped  like  a  little 
blunderbuss,  charged  to  the  mouth,  and  made  a  report  like 
a  piece  of  field  artillery.  He  had  heard,  he  had  paid  no 
attention  ;  and  now,  as  we  came  forth  by  the  back  door, 
he  raised  for  a  moment  a  pale  and  tell-tale  face  that  was  as 
direct  as  a  confession.  The  rascal  had  expected  to  see  Fenn 
come  forth  alone ;  he  was  waiting  to  be  called  on  for  that 
part  of  sexton,  which  I  had  already  allotted  to  him  in  fancy. 

I  need  not  detain  the  reader  very  long  with  any  descrip- 
tion of  my  visit  to  the  back-kitchen ;  of  how  we  mulled  our 
ale  there,  and  mulled  it  very  well ;  nor  of  Iioav  we  sat  talk- 
ing, Fenn  like  an  old,  faithful,  affectionate  dependant,  and 
I — well !  I  myself  fallen  into  a  mere  admiration  of  so  much 
impudence,  that  transcended  words,  and  had  very  soon 
conquered  animosity.  I  took  a  fancy  to  the  man,  he  was 
so  vast  a  humbug.  I  began  to  see  a  kind  of  beauty  in  him, 
his  aploiiib  was  so  majestic.  I  never  knew  a  rogue  to  cut 
so  fat ;  his  villainy  was  ample,  like  his  belly,  and  I  could 
scarce  find  it  in  my  heart  to  hold  him  responsible  for  either. 
He  was  good  enough  to  drop  into  the  autobiographical ; 
telling  me  how  the  farm,  in  spite  of  the  war  and  the  high 


I  FOLLOW  A  COVERED   CART  131 

prices,  had  proved  a  disappointment;  how  there  was  ''a 
sight  of  cold,  wet  land  as  you  come  along-  the  'igh  road  " ; 
how  the  winds  and  rains  and  the  seasons  had  been  misdi- 
rected, it  seemed  ''o' purpose";  how  Mrs.  Fenn  had  died— 
"I  lost  her  coming  two  year  agone;  a  remarkable  fine 
woman,  my  old  girl,  sir !  if  you'll  excuse  me,"  he  added, 
with  a  burst  of  humility.  In  short,  he  gave  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  studying  John  Bull,  as  I  may  say,  stuffed  naked— 
his  greed,  his  usuriousness,  his  hypocrisy,  his  perfidy  of 
the  back-stairs,  all  swelled  to  the  superlative — such  as  was 
well  worth  the  little  disarray  and  fluster  of  our  passage  in 
the  hall. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

I    MEET   TWO    OF   MY    COUNTRYMEN" 

As  soon  as  I  judged  it  safe^  and  that  was  not  before 
Burchell  Fenn  had  talked  himself  back  into  his  breath  and 
a  complete  good  humour,  I  proposed  he  should  introduce 
me  to  the  French  officers,  henceforth  to  become  my  fel- 
low-passengers. There  were  two  of  them,  it  appeared,  and 
my  heart  beat  as  I  approached  the  door.  The  specimen 
of  Perfidious  Albion  whom  I  had  just  been  studying  gave 
me  the  stronger  zest  for  my  fellow-countrymen.  I  could 
have  embraced  them  ;  I  could  have  wept  on  their  necks. 
And  all  the  time  I  was  going  to  a  disappointment. 

It  was  in  a  spacious  and  low  room,  with  an  outlook  on 
the  court,  that  I  found  them  bestowed.  In  the  good  days 
of  that  house  the  apartment  had  probably  served  as  a  li- 
brary, for  there  were  traces  of  shelves  along  the  wainscot. 
Four  or  five  mattresses  lay  on  the  floor  in  a  corner,  with  a 
frowsy  heap  of  bedding  ;  near  by  was  a  basin  and  a  cube  of 
soap ;  a  rude  kitchen  table  and  some  deal  chairs  stood  to- 
gether at  the  far  end  ;  and  the  room  was  illuminated  by 
no  less  than  four  windows,  and  warmed  by  a  little  crazy, 
sidelong  grate,  propped  up  with  bricks  in  the  vent  of  a 
hospitable  chimney,  in  which  a  pile  of  coals  smoked  pro- 
digiously and  gave  out  a  few  starveling  flames.  An  old, 
frail,  white-haired  officer  sat  in  one  of  the  chairs,  which 
he  had  drawn  close  to  this  apology  for  a  fire.  He  was 
wrapped  in  a  camlet  cloak,  of  which  the  collar  was  turned 

132 


I   MEET   TWO   OF   MY   COUNTRYMEN  133 

np,  his  knees  touched  the  bars,  his  hands  were  spread  in 
the  very  smoke,  and  yet  he  shivered  for  cold.  The  sec- 
ond— a  big,  florid,  fine  animal  of  a  man,  whose  every  gest- 
ure labelled  him  the  cock  of  the  walk  and  the  admiration 
of  the  ladies — had  apparently  despaired  of  the  fire,  and 
now  strode  up  and  down,  sneezing  hard,  bitterly  blowing 
his  nose,  and  proffering  a  continual  stream  of  bluster,  com- 
plaint, and  barrack-room  oaths. 

Fenn  showed  me  in,  with  the  brief  form  of  introduction-. 
^'  Gentlemen  all,  this  here's  another  fare  !"  and  was  gone 
again  at  once.  The  old  man  gave  me  but  the  one  glance 
out  of  lack-lustre  eyes ;  and  even  as  he  looked  a  shiver 
took  him  as  sharp  as  a  hiccough.  But  the  other,  who  rep- 
resented to  admiration  the  j^icture  of  a  Beau  in  a  Catarrh, 
stared  at  me  arrogantly. 

*' And  who  are  you,  sir  ?''  he  asked. 

I  made  the  military  salute  to  my  superiors. 

"  Champdivers,  private.  Eighth  of  the  Line,"  said  I. 

"  Pretty  business  !"  said  he.  *^^  And  you  are  going  on 
with  us  ?  Three  in  a  cart,  and  a  great  trolloping  private 
at  that  I  And  who  is  to  pay  for  you,  my  fine  fellow  ? " 
he  inquired. 

^'  If  monsieur  comes  to  that,"  I  answered  civilly,  "  who 
paid  for  him  ?  " 

"  0,  if  you  choose  to  play  the  wit  !  "  said  he, — and  be- 
gan to  rail  at  large  ujfon  his  destiny,  the  weather,  the  cold, 
the  danger  and  the  expense  of  the  escape,  and  above  all, 
the  cooking  of  the  accursed  English.  It  seemed  to  annoy 
him  particularly  that  I  should  have  joined  their  party. 
"  If  you  knew  what  you  were  doing,  thirty  thousand  mill- 
ions of  pigs  !  you  would  keep  yourself  to  yourself  !  The 
horses  can't  drag  the  cart;  the  roads  are  all  ruts  and 
swamps.  No  longer  ago  than  last  night  the  Colonel  and  I 
had  to  march  half  the  way— thunder  of  God  !— half  the 


134  '  ST.    IVES 

way  to  the  knees  in  mud— and  I  with  this  infernal  cold — 
and  the  danger  of  detection  !  Happily  we  met  no  one  :  a 
desert — a  real  desert — like  the  whole  abominable  country  ! 
Nothing  to  eat — no,  sir,  there  is  nothing  to  eat  but  raw 
cow  and  greens  boiled  in  water — nor  to  drink  but  Worces- 
tershire sauce  !  Now  I,  with  my  catarrh,  I  have  no  appe- 
tite ;  is  it  not  so  ?  Well,  if  I  were  in  France,  I  should  have 
a  good  soup  with  a  crust  in  it,  an  omelette,  a  fowl  in  rice, 
a  partridge  in  cabbages — things  to  tempt  me,  thunder  of 
God  !  But  here — day  of  God  I — what  a  country  !  And 
cold,  too  !  They  talk  about  Russia — this  is  all  the  cold  I 
want!  And  the  people — look  at  them  !  What  a  race  ! 
Never  any  handsome  men  ;  never  any  fine  officers  !  " — and 
he  looked  down  complacently  for  a  moment  at  his  waist — 
''  And  the  women — what  faggots  !  No,  that  is  one  point 
clear,  I  cannot  stomach  the  English  ! " 

There  was  something  in  this  man  so  antipathetic  to  me, 
as  sent  the  mustard  into  my  nose.  I  can  never  bear  your 
bucks  and  dandies,  even  when  they  are  decent-looking  and 
well  dressed  ;  and  the  Major — for  that  was  his  rank— was 
the  image  of  a  flunkey  in  good  luck.  Even  to  be  in  agree- 
ment with  him,  or  to  seem  to  be  so,  was  more  than  I  could 
make  out  to  endure. 

''  You  could  scarce  be  expected  to  stomach  them,'^  said 
I,  civilly,  "  after  having  just  digested  your  parole." 

He  whipped  round  on  his  heel  and  turned  on  me  a  coun- 
tenance which  I  daresay  he  imagined  to  be  awful  ;  but  an- 
other fit  of  sneezing  cut  him  off  ere  he  could  come  the 
length  of  speech. 

''  I  have  not  tried  the  dish  myself,"  I  took  the  opportu- 
nity to  add.  '^  It  is  said  to  be  unpalatable.  Did  monsieur 
find  it  so  ?" 

With  surprising  vivacity  the  Colonel  woke  from  his 
lethargy.     He  was  between  us  ere  another  word  could  pass. 


I   MEET  TWO   OF  MY   COUNTRYMEN  135 

''  Shame,  gentlemen  ! "  he  said.  "  Is  this  a  time  for 
Frenchmen  and  fellow-soldiers  to  fall  out  ?  We  are  in  the 
midst  of  our  enemies  ;  a  quarrel,  a  loud  word,  may  suffice 
to  plunge  us  back  into  irretrievable  distress.  Monsieur  le 
Commandant,  you  have  been  gravely  offended.  I  make  it 
my  request,  I  make  it  my  prayer — if  need  be,  I  give  you 
my  orders — that  the  matter  shall  stand  by  until  we  come 
safe  to  France.  Then,  if  you  please,  I  will  serve  you  in 
any  capacity.  And  for  you,  young  man,  you  have  shown 
all  the  cruelty  and  carelessness  of  youth.  This  gentleman 
is  your  superior  ;  he  is  no  longer  young '' — at  which  word 
you  are  to  conceive  the  Major's  face.  ^^  It  is  admitted  he 
has  broken  his  parole.  I  know  not  his  reason,  and  no 
more  do  you.  It  might  be  patriotism  in  this  hour  of  our 
country^s  adversity,  it  might  be  humanity,  necessity  ;  you 
know  not  what  in  the  least,  and  you  permit  yourself  to  re- 
flect on  his  honour.  To  break  parole  may  be  a  subject  for 
pity  and  not  derision.  I  have  broken  mine — I,  a  colonel 
of  the  Empire.  And  why  ?  I  have  been  years  negotiating 
my  exchange,  and  it  cannot  be  managed  ;  those  who  have 
influence  at  the  Ministry  of  War  continually  rush  in  be- 
fore me,  and  I  have  to  wait,  and  my  daughter  at  home  is 
in  a  decline.  I  am  going  to  see  my  daughter  at  last,  and 
it  is  my  only  concern  lest  I  should  have  delayed  too  long. 
She  is  ill,  and  very  ill,— at  death's  door.  Nothing  is  left 
me  but  my  daughter,  my  Emperor,  and  my  honour  ;  and 
I  give  my  honour,  blame  me  for  it  who  dare  ! '' 

At  this  my  heart  smote  me. 

"  For  God's  sake,"  I  cried,  ''  think  no  more  of  what  I 
have  said  !  A  parole  ?  what  is  a  parole  against  life  and 
death  and  love  ?  I  ask  your  pardon  ;  this  gentleman's  also. 
As  long  as  I  shall  be  with  you,  you  shall  not  have  cause  to 
complain  of  me  again.  I  pray  God  you  will  find  your 
daughter  alive  and  restored." 


136  ST.   IVES 

"  That  is  past  praying  for/'  said  the  Colonel ;  and  im- 
mediately the  brief  lire  died  out  of  him,  and  returning  to 
the  hearth,  he  relapsed  into  his  former  abstraction. 

But  I  was  not  so  easy  to  compose.  The  knowledge  of 
the  poor  gentleman's  trouble  and  the  sight  of  his  face  had 
filled  me  with  the  bitterness  of  remorse  ;  and  I  insisted 
upon  shaking  hands  with  the  Major  (which  he  did  with  a 
very  ill  grace),  and  abounded  in  palinodes  and  apologies. 

*'  After  all/'  said  I,  "  who  am  I  to  talk  ?  I  am  in  the 
luck  to  be  a  private  soldier ;  I  have  no  parole  to  give  or  to 
keep  ;  once  I  am  over  the  rampart,  I  am  as  free  as  air.  I 
beg  you  to  believe  that  I  regret  from  my  soul  the  use  of 
these  ungenerous  expressions.  Allow  me  ....  Is  there 
no  way  in  this  damned  house  to  attract  attention  ?  AVhere 
is  this  fellow,  Fenn  ?  " 

I  ran  to  one  of  the  windows  and  threw  it  open.  Fenn, 
who  was  at  the  moment  passing  below  in  the  court,  cast 
up  his  arms  like  one  in  despair,  called  to  me  to  keep  back, 
plunged  into  the  house,  and  appeared  next  moment  in  the 
doorway  of  the  chamber. 

''  0,  sir  ! "  says  he,  •'  keep  away  from  those  there  w^in- 
dows.     A  body  might  see  you  from  the  back  lane." 

'^It  is  registered,"  said  I.  '^  Henceforward  I  will  be  a 
mouse  for  precaution  and  a  ghost  for  invisibility.  But  in 
the  meantime,  for  God's  sake,  fetch  us  a  bottle  of  brandy  ! 
Your  room  is  as  damp  as  the  bottom  of  a  well,  and  these 
gentlemen  are  perishing  of  cold." 

So  soon  as  I  had  paid  him  (for  everything,  I  found,  must 
be  paid  in  advance),  I  turned  my  attention  to  the  fire, 
and  whether  because  I  threw  greater  energy  into  the 
business,  or  because  the  coals  were  now  warmed  and  the 
time  ripe,  I  soon  started  a  blaze  that  made  the  chimney 
roar  again.  The  shine  of  it,  in  that  dark,  rainy  day, 
seemed    to    reanimate    the  Colonel  like  a  blink   of  sun. 


I   MEET  TWO   OF   MY   COUNTRYMEN  137 

With  the  outburst  of  the  flames,  besides,  a  drauglit  was 
established,  which  immediately  delivered  us  from  the 
plague  of  smoke  ;  and  by  the  time  Fenn  returned,  carry- 
ing a  bottle  under  his  arm  and  a  single  tumbler  in  his 
hand,  there  was  already  an  air  of  gaiety  in  the  room  that 
did  the  heart  good. 

I  poured  out  some  of  the  brandy. 

"  Colonel,''  said  I,  "  I  am  a  young  man  and  a  private 
soldier.  I  have  not  been  long  in  this  room,  and  already 
I  have  shown  the  petulance  that  belongs  to  the  one  char- 
acter and  the  ill  manners  that  you  may  look  for  in  the 
other.  Have  the  humanity  to  pass  these  slips  over,  and 
honour  me  so  far  as  to  accept  this  glass." 

''My  lad,"  says  he,  waking  up  and  blinking  at  me  with 
an  air  of  suspicion,  "are  you  sure  you  can  afford  it  ? " 

I  assured  him  I  could. 

''I  thank  you,  then:  I  am  very  cold."  He  took  the 
glass  out,  and  a  little  colour  came  in  his  face.  ''I  thank 
you  again,"  said  he.     "  It  goes  to  the  heart." 

The  Major,  when  I  motioned  him  to  help  himself,  did 
so  with  a  good  deal  of  liberality  ;  continued  to  do  so  for 
tlie  rest  of  the  morning,  now  with  some  sort  of  apology, 
now  with  none  at  all ;  and  the  bottle  began  to  look  fool- 
ish before  dinner  was  served.  It  was  such  a  meal  as  he 
had  himself  predicted  :  beef,  greens,  potatoes,  mustard  in 
a  teacup,  and  beer  in  a  brown  jug  that  was  all  over 
hounds,  horses,  and  hunters,  Avith  a  fox  at  the  far  end 
and  a  gigantic  John  Bull — for  all  tlie  world  like  Fenn — 
sitting  in  the  midst  in  a  bob-wig  and  smoking  tobacco. 
The  beer  was  a  good  brew,  but  not  good  enough  for  the 
Major ;  he  laced  it  with  brandy — for  his  cold,  he  said  ; 
and  in  this  curative  design  the  remainder  of  the  bottle 
ebbed  away.  He  called  my  attention  repeatedly  to  the 
circumstance  ;  helped  me  pointedly  to  the   dregs,  threw 


138  ST.   IVES 

the  bottle  in  the  air  and  played  tricks  with  it ;  and  at  last, 
having  exhausted  his  ingenuity,  and  seeing  me  remain 
quite  blind  to  every  hint,  he  ordered  and  paid  for  another 
himself. 

As  for  the  Colonel,  he  ate  nothing,  sat  sunk  in  a  muse, 
and  only  awoke  occasionally  to  a  sense  of  where  he  was, 
and  what  he  was  supposed  to  be  doing.  On  each  of  these 
occasions  he  showed  a  gratitude  and  kind  courtesy  that 
endeared  him  to  me  beyond  expression.  '^  Champdivers, 
my  lad,  your  health  !"  he  would  say.  ^^The  Major  and 
I  had  a  very  arduous  march  last  night,  and  I  positively 
thought  I  should  have  eaten  nothing,  but  your  fortu- 
nate idea  of  the  brandy  has  made  quite  a  new  man  of 
me — quite  a  new  man."  And  he  would  fall  to  with  a 
great  air  of  heartiness,  cut  himself  a  mouthful,  and  before 
he  had  swallowed  it,  would  have  forgotten  his  dinner,  his 
company,  the  place  where  he  then  was,  and  the  escape  he 
was  engaged  on,  and  become  absorbed  in  the  vision  of  a 
sick  room  and  a  dying  girl  in  France.  The  pathos  of  this 
continual  preoccupation,  in  a  man  so  old,  sick,  and  over- 
weary, and  whom  I  looked  upon  as  a  mere  bundle  of  dying 
bones  and  death-pains,  put  me  wholly  from  my  victuals  : 
it  seemed  there  was  an  element  of  sin,  a  kind  of  rude  bra- 
vado of  youth,  in  the  mere  relishing  of  food  at  the  same 
table  with  this  tragic  father ;  and  though  I  was  well 
enough  used  to  the  coarse,  plain  diet  of  the  English,  I  ate 
scarce  more  than  himself.  Dinner  was  hardly  over  before 
he  succumbed  to  a  lethargic  sleep  ;  lying  on  one  of  the 
mattresses  with  his  limbs  relaxed,  and  his  breath  seem- 
ingly suspended — the  very  image  of  dissolution. 

This  left  the  Major  and  myself  alone  at  the  table.  You 
must  not  suppose  onr  tete-a-tete  was  long,  but  it  was  a 
lively  period  while  it  lasted.  He  drank  like  a  fish  or  an 
Englishman  ;  shouted,  beat  the  table,  roared  out  songs, 


I  MEET  TWO    OF   MY    COUNTRYMEN  l;39 

quarrelled^  made  it  np  again,  and  at  last  tried  to  tlirow 
the  dinner-plates  through  the  window,  a  feat  of  which  he 
was  at  that  time  quite  incapable.  For  a  party  of  fugitives, 
condemned  to  the  most  rigorous  discretion,  there  was 
never  seen  so  noisy  a  carnival ;  and  through  it  all  the  Col- 
onel continued  to  sleep  like  a  child.  Seeing  the  Major 
so  well  advanced,  and  no  retreat  possible,  I  made  a  fair 
wind  of  a  foul  one,  keeping  his  glass  full,  pushing  hiiu 
Avith  toasts  ;  and  sooner  than  I  could  have  dared  to  ho2)c, 
he  became  drowsy  and  incoherent.  With  the  wrong-head- 
edness  of  all  such  sots,  he  would  not  be  persuaded  to  lie 
down  upon  one  of  the  mattresses  until  I  had  stretched 
myself  upon  another.  But  the  comedy  was  soon  over ; 
soon  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just,  and  snored  like  a  mil- 
itary music  ;  and  I  might  get  up  again  and  face  (as  best  I 
could)  the  excessive  tedium  of  the  afternoon. 

I  had  passed  the  night  before  in  a  good  bed  ;  I  was  de- 
nied the  resource  of  slumber  ;  and  there  was  nothing 
open  for  me  but  to  pace  the  apartment,  maintain  the  fire, 
and  brood  on  my  position.  I  compared  yesterday  and  to- 
day— the  safety,  comfort,  jollity,  open-air  exercise  and 
pleasant  roadside  inns  of  the  one,  with  the  tedium,  anx- 
iety, and  discomfort  of  the  other.  I  remembered  that  I 
was  in  the  hands  of  Fenn,  who  could  not  be  more  false 
— though  he  might  be  more  vindictive — than  I  fancied 
him.  I  looked  forward  to  nights  of  pitching  in  the  cov- 
ered cart,  and  days  of  monotony  in  I  knew  not  what 
hiding-places  ;  and  my  heart  failed  me,  and  I  was  in  two 
minds  whether  to  slink  off  ere  it  was  too  late,  and  return 
to  my  former  solitary  way  of  travel.  But  the  Colonel 
stood  in  the  path.  I  had  not  seen  much  of  him  ;  but  al- 
ready I  judged  him  a  man  of  a  childlike  nature — with  that 
sort  of  innocence  and  courtesy  that,  I  think,  is  only  to  be 
found  in  old  soldiers  or  old  priests — and  broken  with  years 


140  ST.   IVES 

and  sorrow.  I  could  not  turn  my  back  on  his  distress  ; 
could  not  leave  him  alone  with  the  selfish  trooper  who 
snored  on  the  next  mattress.  ''  Ohampdivers,  my  lad,  your 
health  ! "  said  a  voice  in  my  ear,  and  stopped  me — and 
there  are  few  things  I  am  more  glad  of  in  the  retrospect 
than  that  it  did. 

It  must  have  been  about  four  in  the  afternoon — at  least 
the  rain  had  taken  oif,  and  the  sun  was  setting  with  some 
wintry  pomp — when  the  current  of  my  reflections  was  ef- 
fectually changed  by  the  arrival  of  two  visitors  in  a  gig. 
They  were  farmers  of  the  neighbourhood,  I  suppose — big, 
burly  fellows  in  great-coats  and  top-boots,  mightily  flushed 
with  liquor  when  they  arrived,  and  before  they  left,  in- 
imitably drunk.  They  stayed  long  in  the  kitchen  with 
Bur(;hell,  drinking,  shouting,  singing,  and  keeping  it  up  ; 
and  the  sound  of  tlieir  merry  minstrelsy  kept  me  a  kind  of 
company.  If  it  was  scarce  tuneful,  it  was  at  least  more 
so  than  the  bestial  snoring  of  the  Major  on  the  mattress. 
The  night  fell,  and  the  shine  of  the  fire  brightened  and 
blinked  on  the  panelled  wall.  Our  illuminated  windows 
must  have  been  visible  not  only  from  the  back  lane  of 
which  Fenn  had  spoken,  but  from  the  court  where  the 
farmers'  gig  awaited  them.  When  they  should  come  forth, 
they  must  infallibly  perceive  the  chamber  to  be  tenanted  ; 
and  suppose  them  to  remark  upon  the  circumstance,  it  be- 
came a  question  whether  Fenn  was  honest  enough  to  wish 
to  protect  us,  or  would  have  sense  enough  left,  after  his 
long  potations,  to  put  their  inquiries  by.  In  the  far  end 
of  the  firelit  room  lay  my  companions,  the  one  silent,  the 
other  clamorously  noisy,  the  images  of  death  and  drunken- 
ness. Little  wonder  if  I  were  tempted  to  join  in  the  cho- 
ruses below,  and  sometimes  could  hardly  refrain  from 
laughter,  and  sometimes,  I  believe,  from  tears — so  unmiti- 
gated was  the  tedium,  so  cruel  the  suspense,  of  this  period. 


I  MEET  TWO   OF   MY   COUNTRYMEN  141 

At  last,  about  six  at  niglit,  I  should  fancy,  the  noisy 
minstrels  appeared  in  the  court,  headed  by  Fenn  with  a 
lantern,  and  knocking  together  as  they  came.  The  vis- 
itors clambered  noisily  into  the  gig,  one  of  them  shook  the 
reins,  and  they  were  snatched  out  of  sight  and  hearing 
with  a  suddenness  that  partook  of  the  nature  of  prodigy. 
I  am  well  aware  there  is  a  Providence  for  drunken  men, 
that  holds  the  reins  for  them  and  presides  over  their  trou- 
bles ;  doubtless  he  had  his  work  cut  out  for  him  with  this 
particular  gigful  !  Fenn  rescued  his  toes  with  an  ejacu- 
lation from  under  the  departing  wheels,  and  turned  at 
once  with  uncertain  steps  and  devious  lantern  to  the  far 
end  of  the  court.  There,  through  the  open  doors  of  a 
coach-house,  the  shock-headed  lad  was  already  to  be  seen 
drawing  forth  the  covered  cart.  If  I  wished  any  private 
talk  with  our  host,  it  must  be  now  or  never. 

Accordingly  I  groped  my  way  downstairs,  and  came  to 
him  as  he  looked  on  at  and  lighted  the  harnessing  of  the 
horses. 

"  The  hour  approaches  when  we  have  to  part,"  said  I ; 
''  and  I  shall  be  obliged  if  you  will  tell  your  servant  to 
drop  me  at  the  nearest  point  for  Dunstable.  I  am  de- 
termined to  go  so  far  with  our  friends.  Colonel  X  and 
Major  Y,  but  my  business  is  peremptory,  and  it  takes  me 
to  the  neighbourhood  of  Dunstable." 

Orders  were  given,  to  my  satisfaction,  with  an  obsequi- 
ousness that  seemed  only  inflamed  by  his  potations. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART 

My  companions  were  aroused  with  diJSicnlty  :  tlie  Colonel, 
poor  old  gentleman,  to  a  sort  of  permanent  dream,  in  which 
you  could  say  of  him  only  that  he  was  very  deaf  and  anx- 
iously polite  ;  the  Major  still  maudlin  drunk.  We  had  a 
dish  of  tea  by  the  fireside,  and  then  issued  like  criminals 
into  the  scathing  cold  of  the  night.  For  the  weather  had 
in  the  meantime  changed.  Upon  the  cessation  of  the  rain, 
a  strict  frost  had  succeeded.  The  moon,  being  young,  was 
already  near  the  zenith  when  we  started,  glittered  every- 
where on  sheets  of  ice,  and  sparkled  in  ten  thousand  icicles. 
A  more  unpromising  night  for  a  journey  it  was  hard  to 
conceive.  But  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  the  horses 
had  been  well  rouglied  ;  and  King  (for  such  was  the  name 
of  the  shock-headed  lad)  was  very  positive  that  he  could 
drive  us  without  misadventure.  He  was  as  good  as  his 
word  ;  indeed,  despite  a  gawky  air,  he  was  simply  invalu- 
able in  his  present  employment,  showing  marked  sagacity 
in  all  that  concerned  the  care  of  horses,  and  guiding  us  by 
one  short  cut  after  another  for  days,  and  without  a  fault. 

The  interior  of  tliat  engine  of  torture,  the  covered  cart, 
was  fitted  with  a  bench,  on  which  we  took  our  places  ;  the 
door  was  shut  ;  in  a  moment,  4'he  night  closed  upon  us 
solid  and  stifling  ;  and  we  felt  that  we  were  being  driven 
carefully  out  of  the  courtyard.  Careful  was  the  word  all 
night,  and  it  was  an  alleviation  of  our  miseries  that  we  did 

142 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART       143 

not  often  enjoy.  In  general,  as  we  were  driven  the  ucttcr 
part  of  the  night  and  day,  often  at  a  pretty  quick  pace  and 
always  through  a  labyrinth  of  the  most  infamous  country 
lanes  and  by-roads,  we  were  so  bruised  upon  the  bench,  so 
dashed  against  the  top  and  sides  of  the  cart,  that  we  reached 
the  end  of  a  stage  in  truly  pitiable  case,  sometimes  flung 
ourselves  down  without  the  formality  of  eating,  made  but 
one  sleep  of  it  until  the  hour  of  departure  returned,  and 
were  only  properly  awakened  by  the  first  jolt  of  the  re- 
newed journey.  There  were  interruptions,  at  times,  that 
we  hailed  as  alleviations.  At  times  the  cart  was  bogged, 
once  it  was  upset,  and  we  must  alight  and  lend  the  driver 
the  assistance  of  our  arms  ;  at  times,  too  (as  on  the  oc- 
casion when  I  had  first  encountered  it),  the  horses  gave 
out,  and  we  had  to  trail  alongside  in  mud  or  frost  until  the 
first  peep  of  daylight,  or  the  approach  to  a  hamlet  or  a 
high  road,  bade  us  disappear  like  ghosts  into  our  prison. 

The  main  roads  of  England  are  incomparable  for  ex- 
cellence, of  a  beautiful  smoothness,  very  ingeniously  laid 
down,  and  so  well  kept  that  in  most  weathers  you  could 
take  your  dinner  off  any  part  of  them  without  distaste. 
On  them,  to  the  note  of  the  bugle,  the  mail  did  its  sixty 
miles  a  day ;  innumerable  chaises  whisked  after  the 
bobbing  postboys  ;  or  some  young  blood  would  flit  by  in 
a  curricle  and  tandem,  to  the  vast  delight  and  danger  of 
the  lieges.  On  them,  the  slow-pacing  waggons  made  a 
music  of  bells,  and  all  day  long,  the  travellers  on  horseback 
and  the  travellers  on  foot  (like  happy  Mr.  St.  Ives  so  little 
a  while  before  !)  kept  coming  and  going,  and  baiting  and 
gaping  at  each  other,  as  though  a  fair  were  due,  and  tlioy 
were  gathering  to  it  from  all  England.  No,  nowhere  in 
the  Avorld  is  travel  so  great  a  pleasure  as  in  that  country. 
But  unhappily  our  one  need  was  to  be  secret  ;  and  all  this 
rapid  and  animated  picture  of  the  road  swept  quite  apart 


144  ST.    IVES 

from  us,  as  we  lumbered  up  hill  and  down  dale,  under 
hedge  and  over  stone,  among  circuitous  byways.  Only 
twice  did  I  receive,  as  it  were,  a  whifE  of  the  highway. 
The  first  reached  my  ears  alone.  I  might  have  been  any- 
where. I  only  knew  I  was  walking  in  the  dark  night  and 
among  ruts,  when  I  heard  very  far  off,  over  the  silent 
country  that  surrounded  us,  the  guard's  horn  wailing  its 
signal  to  the  next  post-house  for  a  change  of  horses.  It 
was  like  the  voice  of  the  day  heard  in  darkness,  a  voice  of 
the  world  heard  in  prison,  the  note  of  a  cock  crowing  in 
the  mid-seas— in  short,  I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  was  like, 
you  will  have  to  fancy  for  yourself — but  I  could  have  wept 
to  hear  it.  Once  we  were  belated  :  the  cattle  could  hardly 
crawl,  the  day  was  at  hand,  it  was  a  nipping,  rigorous 
morning,  King  was  lashing  his  horses,  I  was  giving  an  arm 
to  the  old  Colonel,  and  the  Major  was  coughing  in  our 
rear.  I  must  suppose  that  King  was  a  thought  careless, 
being  nearly  in  desperation  about  his  team,  and,  in  spite 
of  the  cold  morning,  breathing  hot  with  his  exertions. 
We  came,  at  last,  a  little  before  sunrise  to  the  summit  of 
a  hill,  and  saw  the  high-road  passing  at  right  angles  through 
an  open  country  of  meadows  and  hedgerow  pollards  ;  and 
not  only  the  York  mail,  speeding  smoothly  at  the  gallop 
of  the  four  horses,  but  a  post-chaise  besides,  with  the  post- 
boy titupping  briskly,  and  the  traveller  himself  putting  his 
head  out  of  the  window,  but  whether  to  breathe  the  dawn, 
or  the  better  to  observe  the  passage  of  the  mail,  I  do  not 
know.  So  that  we  enjoyed  for  an  instant  a  picture  of  free 
life  on  the  road,  in  its  most  luxurious  forms  of  despatch 
and  comfort.  And  thereafter,  with  a  poignant  feeling  of 
contrast  in  our  hearts,  we  must  mount  again  into  our 
wheeled  dungeon. 

We  came  to  our  stages  at  all  sorts  of  odd  hours,  and  they 
were  in  all  kinds  of  odd  places.     I  may  say  at  once  that 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART       H5 

my  first  experience  was  my  best.  Nowhere  again  were  we 
so  well  entertained  as  at  Burchell  Fenn's.  And  this,  I 
suppose,  was  natural,  and  indeed  inevitable,  in  so  long  and 
secret  a  journey.  The  first  stop,  we  lay  six  hours  in  a 
barn  standing  by  itself  in  a  poor,  marshy  orchard,  and 
packed  with  hay  ;  to  make  it  more  attractive,  we  were 
told  it  had  been  the  scene  of  an  abominable  murder,  and 
was  now  haunted.  But  the  day  was  beginning  to  break, 
and  our  fatigue  was  too  extreme  for  visionary  terrors. 
The  second  or  third,  we  alighted  on  a  barren  heath  about 
midnight,  built  a  fire  to  warm  us  under  the  shelter  of  some 
thorns,  supped  like  beggars  on  bread  and  a  piece  of  cold 
bacon,  and  slept  like  gipsies  with  our  feet  to  the  fire.  In 
the  meanwhile,  King  was  gone  with  the  cart,  I  know  not 
where,  to  get  a  change  of  horses,  and  it  was  late  in  the 
dark  morning  when  he  returned  and  we  were  able  to  re- 
sume our  journey.  In  the  middle  of  another  night,  we 
came  to  a  stop  by  an  ancient,  whitewashed  cottage  of  two 
stories  ;  a  privet  hedge  surrounded  it  ;  the  frosty  moon 
shone  blankly  on  the  upper  windows  ;  but  through  those 
of  the  kitchen  the  firelight  was  seen  glinting  on  the  roof 
and  reflected  from  the  dishes  on  the  wall.  Here,  after 
much  hammering  on  the  door.  King  managed  to  arouse  an 
old  crone  from  the  chimney-corner  chair,  where  she  had 
been  dozing  in  the  watch  ;  and  we  were  had  in,  and  enter- 
tained with  a  dish  of  hot  tea.  This  old  lady  was  an  aunt  of 
Burchell  Fenn's — and  an  unwilling  partner  in  his  danger- 
ous trade.  Though  the  house  stood  solitary,  and  the  hour 
was  an  unlikely  one  for  any  passenger  upon  the  road.  King 
and  she  conversed  in  whispers  only.  There  was  something 
dismal,  something  of  the  sick-room,  in  this  perpetual, 
guarded  sibilation.  The  apprehensions  of  our  hostess  in- 
sensibly communicated  themselves  to  every  one  present. 
We  ate  like  mice  in  a  cat's  ear  ;  if  one  of  us  jingled  a  tea- 
10 


146  ST.    IVES 

s2)oon,  all  would  start  ;  and  when  the  hour  came  to  take 
the  road  again,  we  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  climbed 
to  our  places  in  the  covered  cart  with  a  positive  sense  of 
escajoe.  The  most  of  our  meals,  however,  were  taken 
boldly  at  hedgerow  alehouses,  usually  at  untimely  hours  of 
the  day,  when  the  clients  were  in  the  field  or  the  farmyard 
at  labour.  I  shall  have  to  tell  j)resently  of  our  last  ex- 
perience of  the  sort,  and  how  unfortunately  it  miscarried ; 
but  as  that  was  the  signal  for  my  separation  from'my  fellow- 
travellers,  I  must  first  finish  with  them. 

I  had  never  any  occasion  to  waver  in  my  first  judgment 
of  the  Colonel.  The  old  gentleman  seemed  to  me,  and 
still  seems  in  the  retrospect,  the  salt  of  the  earth.  I  had 
occasion  to  see  him  in  the  extremes  of  hardship,  hunger 
and  cold  ;  he  was  dying,  and  he  looked  it ;  and  yet  I  can- 
not remember  any  hasty,  harsh,  or  impatient  word  to  have 
fallen  from  his  lips.  On  the  contrary,  he  ever  showed 
himself  careful  to  j)lease  ;  and  even  if  he  rambled  in  his 
talk,  rambled  always  gently — like  a  humane,  half-witted 
old  hero,  true  to  his  colours  to  the  last.  I  would  not  dare 
to  say  how  often  he  awoke  suddenly  from  a  lethargy,  and 
told  us  again,  as  tliough  we  had  never  heard  it,  the  story  of 
how  he  had  earned  the  cross,  how  it  had  been  given  him 
by  the  hand  of  the  Emperor,  and  of  the  innocent — and, 
indeed,  foolish — sayings  of  his  daughter  when  he  returned 
with  it  on  his  bosom.  He  had  another  anecdote  which  he 
was  very  apt  to  give,  by  way  of  a  rebuke,  when  the  Major 
wearied  us  beyond  endurance  with  dispraises  of  the  Eng- 
lish. This  was  an  account  of  the  braves  gens  with  whom 
he  had  been  boarding.  True  enough,  he  was  a  man  so 
simple  and  grateful  by  nature,  that  the  most  common 
civilities  were  able  to  touch  him  to  the  heart,  and  would 
remain  written  in  his  memory  ;  but  from  a  thousand  in- 
considerable but  conclusive   indications,  I  gathered  that 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART       147 

this  family  had  really  loved  him,  and  loaded  him  with 
kindness.  They  made  a  fire  in  his  bedroom,  which  tlie 
sons  and  danghters  tended  with  their  own  hands  ;  letters 
from  France  were  looked  for  with  scarce  more  eagerness 
by  himself  than  by  these  alien  sympathisers  ;  wdien  they 
came,  he  would  read  them  aloud  in  the  parlour  to  the 
assembled  family,  translating  as  he  went.  The  Colonel's 
English  was  elementary  ;  his  daughter  not  in  the  least 
likely  to  be  an  amusing  correspondent ;  and,  as  I  conceived 
these  scenes  in  the  parlour,  I  felt  sure  the  interest  centred 
in  the  Colonel  himself,  and  I  thought  I  could  feel  in  my 
own  heart  that  mixture  of  the  ridiculous  and  the  pathetic, 
the  contest  of  tears  and  laughter,  which  must  have  shaken 
the  bosoms  of  the  family.  Their  kindness  had  continued 
till  the  end.  It  appears  they  were  privy  to  his  flight,  the 
camlet  cloak  had  been  lined  expressly  for  him,' and  he  was 
the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  the  daughter  of  the  house  to  his 
own  daughter  in  Paris.  The  last  evening,  when  the  time 
came  to  say  good-night,  it  was  tacitly  known  to  all  that 
they  were  to  look  upon  his  face  no  more.  He  rose,  plead- 
ing fatigue,  and  turned  to  the  daughter,  who  had  been  his 
chief  ally  :  ^^  You  will  permit  me,  my  dear — to  an  old  and 
very  unhappy  soldier — and  may  God  bless  you  for  your 
goodness  ! ''  The  girl  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck  and 
sobbed  upon  his  bosom  ;  the  lady  of  the  house  burst  into 
tears  ;  ^^  et  je  vons  le  jure,  U  pere  semoncJiait !  "  quoth  the 
Colonel,  twisting  his  moustaches  with  a  cavalry  air,  and  at 
the  same  time  blinking  the  water  from  his  eyes  at  tiie 
mere  recollection. 

It  was  a  good  thought  to  me  that  he  had  found  these 
friends  in  captivity  ;  that  he  had  started  on  this  fatal  jour- 
ney from  so  cordial  a  farewell.  He  had  broken  his  parole 
for  his  daughter  :  that  he  should  ever  live  to  reach  her 
sick  bed,  that  he  could  continue  to  endure  to  an  end  the 


148  ST.   IVES 

hardships,  the  crushing  fatigue,  the  savage  cold,  of  our 
pilgrimage,  I  had  early  ceased  to  hope.  I  did  for  him 
what  I  was  able, — nursed  him,  kept  him  covered,  watched 
over  his  slumbers,  sometimes  held  him  in  my  arms  at  the 
rough  places  of  the  road.  "  Champdivers,''  he  once  said, 
'^  you  are  like  a  son  to  me — like  a  son."  It  is  good  to  re- 
member, though  at  the  time  it  put  me  on  the  rack.  All 
was  to  no  purpose.  Fast  as  we  were  travelling  towards 
France,  he  was  travelling  faster  still  to  another  destina- 
tion. Daily  he  grew  weaker  and  more  indifferent.  An 
old  rustic  accent  of  Lower  Xormandy  reappeared  in  his 
speech,  from  which  it  had  long  been  banished,  and  grew 
stronger ;  old  words  of  the  patois,  too  :  oiiisireliam,  ma- 
trasse,  and  others,  the  sense  of  which  we  were  sometimes 
unable  to  guess.  On  the  very  last  day  he  began  again  his 
eternal  story  of  the  cross  and  the  Emperor.  The  Major, 
who  was  particularly  ill,  or  at  least  particularly  cross,  ut- 
tered some  angry  words  of  protest.  "  Pardonnez-moi,  mon- 
sieur le  commandant,  mais  c'est  p)Oiir  monsieur,''  said  the 
Colonel :  ''  Monsieur  has  not  yet  heard  the  circumstance, 
and  is  good  enough  to  feel  an  interest."  Presently,  after, 
however,  he  began  to  lose  the  thread  of  his  narrative  ;  and 
at  last :  "  Qu e  que  fai  ?  Je  m'enibro u ille  !  "  says  he,  ' '  Suf- 
fit:  sVa  la  doome,  et  Bertlte  en  etait  Men  contente."  It 
struck  me  as  the  falling  of  the  curtain  or  the  closing  of  the 
sepulchre  doors. 

Sure  enough,  in  but  a  little  while  after,  he  fell  into  a 
sleep  as  gentle  as  an  infant's,  which  insensibly  changed 
into  the  sleep  of  death.  I  had  my  arm  about  his  body  at 
the  time  and  remarked  nothing,  unless  it  were  that  he 
once  stretched  himself  a  little,  so  kindly  the  end  came  to 
that  disastrous  life.  It  was  only  at  our  evening  halt  that 
the  Major  and  I  discovered  we  were  travelling  alone  with 
the  poor  clay.     That  night  we  stole  a  spade  from  a  field— 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART       149 

I  think  near  Market  Bosworth — and  a  little  farther  on,  in 
a  wood  of  young  oak  trees  and  by  the  liglit  of  King's  lan- 
tern, we  buried  the  old  soldier  of  the  Empire  with  both 
prayers  and  tears. 

We  had  needs  invent  Heaven  if  it  had  not  been  revealed 
to  us  ;  there  are  some  things  that  fall  so  bitterly  ill  on  this 
side  Time  !  As  for  the  Major,  I  have  long  since  forgiven 
him.  He  broke  the  news  to  the  poor  ColoneFs  daughter  ; 
I  am  told  he  did  it  kindly  ;  and  sure,  nobody  could  have 
done  it  without  tears  !  His  share  of  Purgatory  will  be 
brief ;  and  in  this  world,  as  I  could  not  very  well  praise 
him,  I  have  suppressed  his  name.  The  ColoneFs  also,  for 
the  sake  of  his  parole.     Requiescant, 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   ADVENTURE   OF   THE   ATTORNEY'S   CLERK 

I  HAVE  mentioned  onr  usual  course,  which  was  to  eat 
in  inconsiderable  wayside  hostelries,,  known  to  King.  It 
was  a  dangerous  business  :  we  went  daily  under  fire  to 
satisfy  our  appetite,  and  put  our  head  in  the  lion's  mouth 
for  a  piece  of  bread.  Sometimes,  to  minimise  the  risk,  we 
would  all  dismount  before  we  came  in  view  of  the  house, 
straggle  in  severally,  and  give  what  orders  we  pleased,  like 
disconnected  strangers.  In  like  manner  we  departed,  to 
find  the  cart  at  an  appointed  place,  some  half  a  mile  be- 
yond. The  Colonel  and  the  Major  had  each  a  word  or  two 
of  English, — God  help  their  pronunciation  !  But  they 
did  well  enough  to  order  a  rasher  and  a  pot  or  call  a  reck- 
oning ;  and,  to  say  truth,  these  country  folks  did  not  give 
themselves  the  pains,  and  had  scarce  the  knowledge,  to  be 
critical. 

About  nine  or  ten  at  night  the  pains  of  hunger  and  cold 
drove  us  to  an  alehouse  in  the  flats  of  Bedfordshire,  not  far 
from  Bedford  itself.  In  the  inn  kitchen  was  a  long,  lean, 
characteristic-looking  fellow  of  perhaps  forty,  dressed  in 
black.  He  sat  on  a  settle  by  the  fireside,  smoking  a  long* 
pipe,  such  as  they  call  a  yard  of  clay.  Ilis  hat  and  wig 
were  hanged  upon  the  knob  behind  him,  his  head  as  bald  as 
a  bladder  of  lard,  and  his  expression  very  shrewd,  cantan- 
kerous, and  inquisitive.  He  seemed  to  value  himself  above 
his  company,  to  give  himself  the  airs  of  a  man  of  the  world 

150 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    /ATTORNEY'S   CLERK       151 

among  that  rustic  herd  ;  which  was  often  no  more  than 
his  due  ;  beings  as  I  afterwards  discovered,  an  attorney's 
clerk.  I  took  upon  myself  the  more  ungrateful  part  of  ar- 
riving last ;  and  by  the  time  I  entered  on  the  scene  tlie 
Major  was  already  served  at  a  side  table.  Some  general 
conversation  must  have  passed,  and  I  smelled  danger  in 
the  air.  The  Major  looked  flustered,  the  attorney's  clerk 
triumphant,  and  the  three  or  four  peasants  in  smock- 
frocks  (who  sat  about  the  fire  to  play  chorus)  had  let  their 
pipes  go  out. 

"  Give  you  good  evening,  sir  ! "  said  the  attorney's 
clerk  to  me. 

'*^The  same  to  you,  sir,"  said  I. 

^'  I  think  this  one  will  do,"  quoth  the  clerk  to  the  yokels 
with  a  wink  ;  %nd  then,  as  soon  as  I  had  given  my  order, 
^'  Pray,  sir,  whither  are  you  bound  ?"  he  added. 

*^  Sir,"  said  I,  '^^I  am  not  one  of  those  who  speak  either 
of  their  business  or  their  destination  in  houses  of  public 
entertainment." 

"  A  good  answer,"  said  he,  '■''  and  an  excellent  principle. 
Sir,  do  you  speak  French  ?  " 

'' Why,  no,  "sir,"  said  I.  '^A  little  Spanish  at  your 
service." 

"  But  you  know  the  French  accent,  perhaps  ?  "  said  the 
clerk. 

''  Well  do  I  do  that  ! "  said  I.  ''  The  French  accent  ? 
Why,  I  believe  I  can  tell  a  Frenchman  in  ten  words." 

''  Here  is  a  puzzle  for  you,  then  ! "  he  said.  "  I  have  no 
material  doubt  myself,  but  some  of  these  gentlemen  are 
more  backward.  The  lack  of  education,  you  know.  I 
make  bold  to  say  that  a  man  cannot  walk,  cannot  liear, 
and  cannot  see,  without  the  blessings  of  education." 

He  turned  to  the  Major,  whose  food  plainly  stuck  in  his 
throat. 


159  ST.    IVES 

^'  Now,  sir/'  pursued  the  clerk,  "  let  me  have  the  pleas- 
ure to  hear  your  voice  again.  Where  are  you  going,  did 
you  say  ?  " 

^'  Sare,  I  am  go — ing  to  Lon — don,"  said  the  Major. 

I  could  have  flung  my  plate  at  him  to  be  such  an  ass, 
and  to  have  so  little  a  gift  of  languages  where  that  was  the 
essential. 

^'What  think  ye  of  that?"  said  the  clerk,  ^^s  that 
French  enough  ?  " 

"  Good  God  ! "  cried  I,  leaping  up  like  one  who  should 
suddenly  perceive  an  acquaintance,  "  is  this  you,  Mr.  Du- 
bois ?  Why,  who  would  have  dreamed  of  encountering 
you  so  far  from  home  ?  "  As  I  spoke,  I  shook  hands  with 
the  Major  heartily ;  and  turning  to  our  tormentor,  "  0, 
sir,  you  may  be  perfectly  reassured  !  This  ia  a  very  honest 
fellow,  a  late  neighbour  of  mine  in  the  city  of  Carlisle." 

I  thought  the  attorney  looked  put  out  ;  I  knew  little  the 
man  ! 

^'But  he  is  French,"  said  he,  ^^for  all  that  ?" 

'^  Ay,  to  be  sure  ! "  said  I.  ^'  A  Frenchman  of  the  emi- 
gration !  None  of  your  Buonaparte  lot.  I  will  warrant 
his  views  of  politics  to  be  as  sound  as  your  own." 

"■  What  is  a  little  strange,"  said  the  clerk  quietly,  ^'  is 
that  Mr.  Dubois  should  deny  it." 

I  got  it  fair  in  the  face,  and  took  it  smiling  ;  but  the 
shock  was  rude,  and  in  the  course  of  the  next  words  I 
contrived  to  do  what  I  have  rarely  done  and  make  a  slip  in 
my  English.  I  kept  my  liberty  and  life  by  my  proficiency 
all  these  months,  and  for  once  that  I  failed,  it  is  not  to  be 
supposed  that  I  would  make  a  public  exhibition  of  the  de- 
tails. Enough,  that  it  was  a  very  little  error,  and  one  that 
might  have  passed  ninety-nine  times  in  a  hundred.  But 
my  limb  of  the  law  was  as  swift  to  pick  it  up  as  though  he 
had  been  by  trade  a  master  of  languages. 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   ATTORNEY'S   CLERK       153 

^^  Aha  !"  cries  lie  ;  ^^and  you  are  French,  too  !  Your 
tongue  bewrays  you.  Two  Frenchmen  coming  into  an  ale- 
house, severally  and  accidentally,  not  knowing  each  other, 
at  ten  of  the  clock  at  night,  in  the  middle  of  Bedfordshire  ? 
No,  sir,  that  shall  not  pass  !  You  are  all  prisoners  escap- 
ing, if  you  are  nothing  worse.  Consider  yourselves  under 
arrest.     I  have  to  trouble  you  for  your  papers." 

'^  Where  is  your  warrant,  if  you  come  to  that  ?"  said  I. 
"  My  papers  !  A  likely  thing  that  I  would  show  my  pa- 
pers on  the  ijjse  dixit  of  an  unknown  fellow  in  a  hedge 
alehouse  I " 

"  Would  you  resist  the  law  ?  "  says  he. 

"  Not  the  law,  sir/'  said  I.  "I  hope  I  am  too  good  a 
subject  for  that.  But  for  a  nameless  fellow  with  a  bald 
head  and  a  pair  of  gingham  small-clothes,  why,  certainly  I 
'Tis  my  birthright  as  an  Englishman.  Where's  Magna 
Charta,  else  ?" 

*^'AVe  will  see  about  that,"  says  he  ;  and  then,  address- 
ing the  assistants,  "  where  does  the  constable  live  ?" 

'^'^Lord  love  you,  sir  !"  cried  the  landlord,  "what  are 
you  thinking  of  ?  The  constable  at  past  ten  at  night  ! 
Why,  he's  abed  and  asleep,  and  good  and  drunk  two  hours 
agone  ! " 

"  Ah,  that  a'  be  ! "  came  in  chorus  from  the  yokels. 

The  attorney's  clerk  was  put  to  a  stand.  He  could  not 
think  of  force  ;  there  was  little  sign  of  martial  ardour 
about  the  landlord,  and  the  peasants  were  indilTorent— 
they  only  listened,  and  gaped,  and  now  scratched  a  liead 
and  now  would  get  a  light  to  their  pipes  from  the  eml)ers 
on  the  hearth.  On  the  other  hand,  the  IVIajor  and  I  ])ut 
a  bold  front  on  the  business  and  defied  him,  not  witliout 
some  ground  of  law.  In  this  state  of  matters  he  proposed 
I  should  go  along  with  him  to  one  Squire  Merton,  a  great 
man  of  the  neighbourhood,  who  was  in  the  commission  ot 


154  ST.    IVES 

the  peace^,  and  the  end  of  liis  avenue  but  three  lanes  away. 
I  told  him  I  would  not  stir  a  foot  for  him  if  it  were  to  save 
his  soul.  Next  he  proposed  I  should  stay  all  night  where 
I  was,  and  the  constable  could  see  to  my  affair  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  he  was  sober.  I  replied  I  sliould  go  when  and 
where  I  pleased  ;  that  we  were  lawful  f.ravellers  in  the  fear 
of  God  and  the  king,  and  I  for  one  would  suffer  myself  to 
be  stayed  by  nobody.  At  the  same  time,  I  was  thinking 
the  matter  had  lasted  altogether  too  long,  and  I  determined 
to  bring  it  to  an  end  at  once. 

'^  See  here,"  said  I,  getting  ujd,  for  till  now  I  had  re- 
mained carelessly  seated,  "  there's  only  one  way  to  decide 
a  thing  like  this — only  one  way  that's  right  Englisli — and 
that's  man  to  man.  Take  off  your  coat,  sir,  and  these  gen- 
tlemen shall  see  fair  play." 

At  this  there  came  a  look  in  his  eye  that  I  could  not  mis- 
take. His  education  had  been  neglected  in  one  essential 
and  eminently  British  particular  :  he  could  not  box.  No 
more  could  I,  you  may  say  ;  but  then  I  had  the  more  im- 
pudence— and  I  had  made  the  proposal. 

'^  He  says  I'm  no  Englishman,  but  the  proof  of  the  pud- 
ding is  the  eating  of  it,"  I  continued.  And  here  I  stripped 
my^oat  and  fell  into  the  proper  attitude,  which  was  just 
about  all  I  knew  of  this  barbarian  art.  ''Why,  sir,  you 
seem  to  me  to  hang  back  a  little,"  said  I.  ''  Come,  I'll 
meet  you  ;  I'll  give  you  an  appetiser — though  hang  me  if 
1  can  understand  the  man  that  wants  any  enticement  to 
hold  up  his  hands."  I  drew  a  bank-note  out  of  my  fob 
and  tossed  it  to  the  landlord.  '' There  are  the  stakes," 
said  I.  ''  I'll  fight  you  for  first  blood,  since  you  seem  to 
make  so  much  work  about  it.  If  you  tap  my  claret  first, 
there  are  five  guineas  for  you,  and  I'll  go  with  you  to  any 
squire  you  choose  to  mention.  If  I  tap  yours,  you'll  per- 
haps let  on  that  I'm  the  better  man,  and  allow  me  to  go 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   ATTORNEY'S   CLERK       lo5 

about  my  lawful  business  at  my  own  time  and  convenience, 
by  God  !  Is  that  fair,  my  lads  ?"  says  I^  appealing  to  tlie 
company. 

"  Ay^  aj/'  said  the  chorus  of  chawbacons  ;  ^'  he  can't 
say  no  fairer  nor  that,  he  can't.  Take  thy  coat  off, 
master  !  " 

The  limb  of  the  law  was  now  on  the  wrong  side  of  public 
opinion,  and,  what  heartened  me  to  go  on,  the  position 
was  rapidly  changing  in  our  favour.  Already  the  Major 
was  paying  his  shot  to  the  very  indifferent  landlord,  and  I 
could  see  the  white  face  of  King  at  the  back  door,  mak- 
ing signals  of  haste. 

"  Oho  !  "  quoth  my  enemy,  "  you  are  as  full  of  doubles  as 
a  fox,  are  you  not  ?  But  I  see  through  you  ;  I  see  through 
and  through  you.  You  would  change  the  venue,  would 
you?" 

''I  may  be  transparent,  sir,"  says  I,  ''but  if  you'll  do 
me  the  favour  to  stand  up,  you'll  find  I  can  hit  damn  hard." 

"Which  is  a  point,  if  you  Avill  observe,  that  I  have 
never  called  in  question,"  said  he.  ''  Why,  you  ignorant 
clowns,"  he  proceeded,  addressing  the  company,  "can't 
you  see  the  fellow  is  gulling  you  before  your  eyes  ?  Can't 
you  see  that  he's  changed  the  point  upon  me  ?  I  say  he's 
a  French  prisoner,  and  he  answers  that  he  can  box  !  AVhat 
has  that  to  do  with  it  ?  I  would  not  wonder  but  what  he 
can  dance,  too — they're  all  dancing  masters  over  there.  I 
say,  and  I  stick  to  it,  that  he's  a  Frenchy.  He  says  he 
isn't.  Well,  then,  let  him  out  with  his  papers,  if  he  has 
them  !  If  he  had,  would  he  not  show  them  ?  If  he  had, 
would  he  not  jump  at  the  idea  of  going  to  Squire  Merton, 
a  man  you  all  know  ?  Now,  you're  all  plain,  straightfor- 
ward Bedfordshire  men,  and  I  wouldn't  ask  a  better  lot  to 
appeal  to.  You're  not  the  kind  to  be  talked  over  with  any 
French  gammon,  and  he's  plenty  of  that.     But  let  me  tell 


156  ST.   IVES 

him,  he  can  take  his  pigs  to  another  market ;  they'll  never 
do  here ;  they'll  never  go  down  in  Bedfordshire.  Why, 
look  at  the  man  !  Look  at  his  feet !  Has  anybody  got  a 
foot  in  the  room  like  that  ?  See  how  he  stands  !  do  any 
of  you  fellows  stand  like  that  ?  Does  the  landlord,  there  ? 
Why,  he  has  Frenchman  wrote  all  over  him,  as  big  as  a 
sign-post ! '' 

This  was  all  very  well  ;  and  in  a  different  scene,  I  might 
even  have  been  gratified  by  his  remarks  ;  but  I  saw  clearly, 
if  I  were  to  allow  him  to  talk,  he  might  turn  the  tables  on 
me  altogether.  He  might  not  be  much  of  a  hand  at  box- 
ing ;  but  I  was  much  mistaken,  or  he  had  studied  forensic 
eloquence  in  a  good  school.  In  this  predicament,  I  could 
think  of  nothing  more  ingenious  than  to  burst  out  of  the 
house,  under  the  pretext  of  an  ungovernable  rage.  It  was 
certainly  not  very  ingenious — it  was  elementary  ;  but  I  had 
no  choice. 

"  You  whitd-livered  dog  ! "  I  broke  out.  ''  Do  you  dare 
to  tell  me  you're  an  Englishman,  and  won't  fight  ?  But 
I'll  stand  no  more  of  this  !  I  leave  this  place,  where  I've 
been  insulted  I  Here  !  what's  to  pay  ?  Pay  yourself  !  '^ 
I  Avent  on,  offering  the  landlord  a  handful  of  silver,  "  and 
give  me  back  my  bank-note  ! " 

The  landlord,  following  his  usual  policy  of  obliging 
everybody,  offered  no  opposition  to  my  design.  The  posi- 
tion of  my  adversary  was  now  thoroughly  bad.  He  had  lost 
my  two  companions.  He  was  on  the  point  of  losing  me 
also.  There  was  plainly  no  hope  of  arousing  the  company 
to  help  ;  and,  watching  him  with  a  corner  of  my  eye,  I  saw 
him  hesitate  for  a  moment.  The  next,  he  had  taken  down 
his  hat  and  his  wig,  which  was  of  black  horsehair  ;  and  I 
saw  him  draw  from  behind  the  settle  a  vast  hooded  great- 
coat and  a  small  valise.  "  The  devil !"  thought  I :  'Ms  the 
rascal  going  to  follow  me  H  " 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    ATTOIINKY's   CLERK        157 

I  was  scarce  clear  of  the  inn  before  the  limb  of  tlie  law 
was  at  rny  heels.  I  saw  his  face  plain  in  the  moonlight; 
..nd  the  most  resolute  purpose  showed  in  it,  along  witli  an 
unmoved  composure.  A  chill  went  over  me.  ''  This  is  no 
common  adventure/'  thinks  I  to  myself.  ''  You  have  got 
hold  of  a  man  of  character,  St.  Ives !  A  bite-hard,  a  bull- 
dog, a  weasel  is  on  your  trail  ;  and  how  are  you  to  throw 
him  off  ?  "  Who  was  he  ?  By  some  of  his  expressions  I 
judged  he  was  a  hanger-on  of  courts.  But  in  what  charac- 
ter had  he  followed  the  assizes  ?  As  a  simple  spectator,  as 
a  lawyer's  clerk,  as  a  criminal  himself,  or — last  and  worst 
supposition — as  a  Bow-street  "  runner  "  ? 

The  cart  would  wait  for  me,  perhaps,  half  a  mile  down 
our  onward  road,  which  I  was  already  folloAving.  And  I 
told  myself  that  in  a  few  minutes'  walking,  Bow-street 
"  runner  "  or  not,  I  should  have  him  at  my  mercy.  And 
then  reflection  came  to  me  in  time.  Of  all  things,  one  was 
out  of  the  question.  Upon  no  account  must  this  obtrusive 
fellow  see  the  cart.  Until  I  had  killed  or  shook  him  off,  I 
was  quite  divorced  from  my  companions — alone,  in  the 
midst  of  England,  on  a  frosty  by-way  leading  whitlier  I 
knew  not,  with  a  sleuth-hound  at  my  heels,  and  never  a 
friend  but  the  holly-stick  ! 

AVe  came  at  the  same  time  to  a  crossing  of  lanes.  The 
branch  to  the  left  was  overhung  with  trees,  deeply  sunken 
and  dark.  Not  a  ray  of  moonlight  penetrated  its  recesses  ; 
and  I  took  it  at  a  venture.  The  wretch  followed  my  ex- 
ample in  silence  ;  and  for  some  time  we  crunched  together 
over  frozen  pools  v/ithout  a  word.  Then  he  found  his  voice, 
with  a  chuckle. 

''  This  is  not  the  way  to  Mr.  Merton's,"  said  he. 

'^ No  ? "  said  I.     "  It  is  mine,  however." 

^'  And  therefore  mine,"  said  he. 

Again  we  fell  silent ;  and  we  may  thus  have  covered  lialf 


158  ST.    IVES 

a  mile  before  the  lane,  taking  a  sndden  tnrn,  brought  ns 
forth  again  into  the  moonshine.  With  his  hooded  great-coat 
on  his  back,  his  valise  in  his  hand,  his  black  wig  adjusted, 
and  footing  it  on  the  ice  with  a  sort  of  sober  doggedness  of 
manner,  my  enemy  was  changed  almost  beyond  recognition  : 
changed  in  everything  but  a  certain  dry,  polemical,  pedan- 
tic air,  that  spoke  of  a  sedentary  occupation  and  high  stools. 
I  observed,  too,  that  his  valise  was  heavy  ;  and,  putting  this 
and  that  together,  hit  upon  a  plan. 

^^  A  seasonable  night,  sir,"  said  I.  "  What  do  you  say  to 
a  bit  of  running  ?     The  frost  has  me  by  the  toes." 

"^  With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,"  says  he. 

His  voice  seemed  well  assured,  which  pleased  me  little. 
However,  there  was  nothing  else  to  try,  except  violence,  for 
which  it  would  always  be  too  soon.  I  took  to  my  heels, 
accordingly,  he  after  me  ;  and  for  some  time  the  slapping 
of  our  feet  on  the  hard  road  might  have  been  heard  a  mile 
away.  He  had  started  a  pace  behind  me,  and  he  finished 
in  the  same  position.  For  all  his  extra  years  and  the  weight 
of  his  valise,  he  had  not  lost  a  hair's  breadth.  The  devil 
might  race  him  for  me — I  had  enough  of  it ! 

And,  besides,  to  run  so  fust  was  contrary  to  my  interests. 
We  could  not  run  long  without  arriving  somewhere.  At 
any  moment  we  might  turn  a  corner  and  find  ourselves  at 
the  lodge-gate  of  some  Squire  Merton,  in  the  midst  of  a 
village  whose  constable  was  sober,  or  in  the  hands  of  a 
patrol.  There  was  no  help  for  it — I  must  finish  with  him  on 
the  spot,  as  long  as  it  was  possible.  I  looked  about  me,  and 
.the  place  seemed  suitable  :  never  a  light,  never  a  house — 
nothing  but  stubble-fields,  fallows,  and  a  few  stunted  trees. 
I  stopped  and  eyed  him  in  the  moonlight  with  an  angry  stare. 

'^'Enough  of  this  foolery  !"  said  I. 

He  had  turned,  and  now  faced  me  full,  very  pale,  but 
with  no  sign  of  shrinking. 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    ATTORNEY'S    CLERK        159 

''I  am  quite  of  your  opinion/'  said  he.  ''You  liavc 
tried  me  at  the  running  ;  you  can  try  me  next  at  tlie  high 
jump.  It  will  be  all  the  same.  It  must  end  the  one 
way.'' 

I  made  my  holly  whistle  about  my  head. 

"I  believe  you  know  what  way!"  said  I.  "We  are 
alone,  it  is  night,  and  I  am  wholly  resolved.  Are  you  not 
frightened  ?  " 

"  No/'  he  said,  "  not  in  the  smallest.  I  do  not  box,  sir  ; 
but  I  am  not  a  coward,  as  you  may  have  supposed.  Per- 
haps it  will  simplify  our  relations  if  I  tell  you  at  the  outset 
that  I  walk  armed." 

Quick  as  lightning  I  made  a  feint  at  his  head  ;  as  quickly 
he  gave  ground,  and  at  the  same  time  I  saw  a  pistol  glitter 
in  his  hand. 

"No  more  of  that,  Mr.  French-Prisoner  !  "  he  said.  "  It 
will  do  me  no  good  to  have  your  death  at  my  door." 

"  Faith,  nor  me  either  ! "  said  I ;  and  I  lowered  my  stick 
and  considered  the  man,  not  without  a  twinkle  of  admira- 
tion. "  You  see,"  I  said,  "  there  is  one  consideration  that 
you  appear  to  overlook  :  there  are  a  great  many  chances 
that  your  pistol  may  miss  fire." 

"  I  have  a  pair,"  he  returned.  "Never  travel  without  a 
brace  of  barkers." 

"I  make  you  my  compliment,"  said  I.  "  You  are  able 
to  take  care  of  yourself,  and  that  is  a  good  trait.  But,  my 
good  man  !  let  us  look  at  this  matter  dispassionately.  You 
are  not  a  coward,  and  no  more  am  I ;  we  are  both  men  of 
excellent  sense  ;  I  have  good  reason,  whatever  it  may  be,  to 
keep  my  concerns  to  myself  and  to  walk  alone.  Now,  I 
put  it  to  you  pointedly,  am  I  likely  to  stand  it  ?  Am  I 
likely  to  put  up  with  jowr  continued  and — excuse  me — 
highly  impudent  ingerence  into  my  private  affairs  ?" 

"  Another  French  word,"  says  he  composedly. 


160  ST.    IVES 

"0  !  damn  your  French  words  !"  cried  I.  ''You  seem 
to  be  a  Frenchinan  yourself  V 

'*  I  have  had  many  oi^portunities,  by  which  I  have 
profited/^  he  explained.  ''  Few  men  are  better  acquainted 
with  the  similarities  and  differences,  whether  of  idiom  or 
accent,  of  the  two  languages. ^^ 

"  You  are  a  pompous  fellow,  too  ! "  said  I. 

''0,  I  can  make  distinctions,  sir,"  says  he.  ''I  can 
talk  with  Bedfordshire  peasants ;  and  I  can  express  myself 
becomingly,  I  hope,  in  the  company  of  a  gentleman  of  edu- 
cation like  yourself." 

''  If  you  set  up  to  be  a  gentleman "  I  began. 

''  Pardon  me,"  he  interrupted  :  "  I  make  no  such  claim. 
I  only  see  the  nobility  and  gentry  in  the  way  of  business. 
I  am  quite  a  jdain  person." 

"  For  the  Lord's  sake,"  I  exclaimed,  ''set  my  mind  at 
rest  upon  one  point.  In  the  name  of  mystery,  who  and 
what  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  my  name,  sir,"  said 
he,  "  nor  yet  my  trade.  I  am  Thomas  Dudgeon,  at  your 
service,  clerk  to  Mr.  Daniel  Romaine,  solicitor  of  London; 
High  liolborn  is  our  address,  sir." 

It  was  only  by  the  ecstasy  of  the  relief  that  I  knew  how 
horribly  I  had  been  frightened.  I  flung  my  stick  on  the  road. 

"Romaine?"  I  cried.  "Daniel  Romaine  ?  An  old 
hunks  with  a  red  face  and  a  big  head,  and  got  up  like  a 
Quaker  ?     My  dear  friend,  to  my  arms  ! " 

"  Keep  back,  I  say  !  "  said  Dudgeon  weakly. 

I  would  not  listen  to  him.  AVith  the  end  of  my  own 
alarm,  I  felt  as  if  I  must  infallibly  be  at  the  end  of  all 
dangers  likewise  ;  as  if  the  pistol  that  he  held  in  one  hand 
were  no  more  to  be  feared  than  the  valise  that  he  carried 
with  the  other,  and  now  j)ut  up  like  a  barrier  against  my 
advance. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   ATTORNEY'S   CLERK       161 

''  Keep  back,  or  I  declare  I  will  fire,"  he  was  cryiji«^r. 
'^^  Have  a  care,  for  God's  sake  !     My  pistol " 

He  might  scream  as  he  pleased.  Willy  nilly,  I  folded 
him  to  my  breast,  I  pressed  him  there,  I  kissed  his  ugly 
mug  as  it  had  never  been  kissed  before  and  would  never  be 
kissed  again  ;  and  in  the  doing  so  knocked  his  wig  awry 
and  his  hat  off.  He  bleated  in  my  embrace  ;  so  bleats  the 
sheep  in  the  arms  of  the  butcher.  The  whole  thing,  on 
looking  back,  appears  incomparably  reckless  and  absurd  ; 
I  no  better  than  a  madman  for  offering  to  advance  on 
Dudgeon,  and  he  no  better  than  a  fool  for  not  shooting  me 
while  I  was  about  it.  But  all's  well  that  ends  well  ;  or, 
as  the  people  in  these  days  kept  singing  and  whistling  on 
the  streets  : — 

"There's  a  sweet  little  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft, 
And  looks  out  for  the  life  of  poor  Jack." 

*'  There  !  "  said  I,  releasing  him  a  little,  but  still  keep- 
ing my  hands  on  his  shoulders,  "  je  vous  ai  bel  et  hien  em- 
brasse — and,  as  you  would  say,  there  is  another  French 
word.'''  With  his  wig  over  one  eye,  he  looked  incredibly 
rueful  and  put  out.  ''  Cheer  up.  Dudgeon.;  the  ordeal  is 
over,  you  shall  be  embraced  no  more.  But  do,  first  of  all, 
for  God's  sake,  put  away  your  pistol ;  you  handle  it  as  if 
it  were  a  cockatrice  ;  some  time  or  other,  depend  upon  it, 
it  will  certainly  go  off.  Here  is  your  hat.  No,  let  me  i)ut 
it  on  square,  and  the  wig  before  it.  Never  suffer  any 
stress  of  circumstances  to  come  between  you  and  the  duty 
you  owe  to  yourself.  If  you  have  nobody  else  to  dress  for, 
dress  for  God  ! 

Put  your  wig  straight 
On  your  bald  pate, 
Keep  your  chin  scraped, 
And  your  figure  draped. 
.11 


162  ST.   IVES 

Can  you  match  me  that  ?  The  whole  duty  of  man  in  a 
quatrain  !  And  remark,  I  do  not  set  up  to  be  a  profes- 
sional bard  ;  these  are  the  outpourings  of  a  dilettante." 

*^But,  my  dear  sir  !"  he  exclaimed. 

^^  But,  my  dear  sir  ! "  I  echoed,  '•  I  will  allow  no  man 
to  interrupt  the  flow  of  my  ideas.  Give  me  your  opinion 
on  my  quatrain,  or  I  vow  we  shall  have  a  quarrel  of  it." 

^'  Certainly  you  are  quite  ah  original,"  he  said. 

^'  Quite,"  said  I ;  ^'and  I  believe  I  have  my  counterpart 
before  me." 

"  Well,  for  a  choice,"  says  he,  smiling,  '^and  whether 
for  sense  or  poetry,  give  me 

u  '  Worth  makes  the  man,  and  want  of  it  the  fellow : 
The  rest  is  all  but  leather  and  pnmollo.'  " 

^^  0,  but  that's  not  fair — that's  Pope  !  It's  not  origi- 
nal, Dudgeon.  Understand  me,"  said  I,  wringing  his 
breast-button,  ''the  first  duty  of  all  poetry  is  to  be  mine, 
sir — mine.  Inspiration  now  swells  in  my  bosom,  because 
— to  tell  you  the  plain  truth,  and  descend  a  little  in  style 
— I  am  devilish  relieved  at  the  turn  things  have  taken 
So,  I  daresay,  are  you  yourself.  Dudgeon,  if  you  would 
only  allow  it.  And  a  j^roj^os,  let  me  ask  you  a  home 
question.  Between  friends,  have  you  ever  fired  that  j^is- 
tol?" 

''Why,  yes,  sir,"  he  replied.  ''Twice — at  hedgespar- 
rows." 

"  And  you  would  have  fired  at  me,  you  bloody-minded 
man  ? "  I  cried. 

"  If  you  go  to  that,  you  seemed  mighty  reckless  with 
your  stick,"  said  Dudgeon. 

"Did  I  indeed?  Well,  well,  'tis  all  past  history; 
ancient  as  King  Pharamond — which  is  another  French 
word,  if  you  cared  to  accumulate  more  evidence,"  says  I. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   ATTORNEY'S   CLERK       IGrj 

'^But  happily  we  are  now  the  best  of  friends,  and  have  all 
onr  interests  in  common/' 

''  You  go  a  little  too  fast,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  Mr. : 

I  do  not  know  your  name,  that  I  am  aware,"  said  Dud- 
geon. 

''  ¥o,  to  be  sure  ! "  said  I.     ''  Never  heard  of  it !  " 

'^  A  word  of  explanation "  he  began. 

''  No,  Dudgeon  ! ''  I  interrupted.  "  Be  practical  ;  I  know 
what  you  want,  and  the  name  of  it  is  supper.  Rien  ne 
creiise  comme  Vemotion.  I  am  hungry  myself,  and  yet  I  am 
more  accustomed  to  warlike  palpitations  than  you,  who 
are  but  a  hunter  of  hedgesparrows.  Let  me  look  at  your 
face  critically  :  your  bill  of  fare  is  three  slices  of  cold  rare 
roast  beef,  a  Welsh  rarebit,  a  pot  of  stout,  and  a  glass  or 
two  of  sound  tawny  port,  old  in  bottle — the  right  milk  of 
Englishmen."'  Methought  there  seemed  a  brightening  in 
his  eye  and  a  melting  about  his  mouth  at  this  enumera- 
tion. 

^'^ The  night  is  young,"  I  continued;  '^not  much  past 
eleven,  for  a  wager.  Where  can  we  find  a  good  inn  ?  And 
remark  that  I  say  good,  for  the  port  must  be  up  to  the  oc- 
casion— not  a  headache  in  a  pipe  of  it." 

''  Really,  sir,"  he  said,  smiling  a  little,  ''  you  have  a  way 
of  carrying  things " 

'^  Will  nothing  make  you  stick  to  the  subject  ?  "  I  cried  ; 
*'you  have  the  most  irrelevant  mind  !  How  do  you  expect 
to  rise  in  your  profession  ?     The  inn  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  will  say  you  are  a  facetious  gentleman  ! "  said 
he.  ''You  must  have  your  way,  I  see.  We  are  not  three 
miles  from  Bedford  by  this  very  road." 

"  Done  ! "  cried  I.     "  Bedford  be  it ! " 

I  tucked  his  arm  under  mine,  possessed  myself  of  the 
valise,  and  walked  him  off  unresisting.  Presently  we  came 
to  an  open  piece  of  country  lying  a  thought  down  hill. 


164  ST.   IVES 

The  road  was  smooth  and  free  of  ice,  the  moonshine  thin 
and  bright  over  the  meadows  and  the  leafless  trees.  I  was 
now  honestly  done  with  the  purgatory  of  the  covered  cart ; 
I  was  close  to  my  great-nncle's  ;  I  had  no  more  fear  of  Mr. 
Dudgeon  ;  which  were  all  grounds  enough  for  jollity.  And 
I  was  aware,  besides,  of  us  two  as  of  a  pair  of  tiny  and 
solitary  dolls  under  the  vast  frosty  cupola  of  the  midnight ; 
the  rooms  decked,  the  moon  burnished,  the  least  of  the 
stars  lighted,  the  floor  swept  and  waxed,  and  nothing  want- 
ing but  for  the  band  to  strike  up  and  the  dancing  to  be- 
gin. In  the  exhilaration  of  my  heart  I  took  the  music  on 
myself — 

"  Merrily  danced  the  Quaker's  wife, 
And  merrily  danced  the  Quaker." 

I  broke  into  that  animated  and  appropriate  air,  clapped  my 
arm  about  Dudgeon's  waist,  and  away  down  the  hill  at  a 
dancing  step  !  He  hung  back  a  little  at  the  start,  but  the 
impulse  of  the  tune,  the  night,  and  my  example,  were  not 
to  be  resisted.  A  man  made  of  putty  must  have  danced, 
and  even  Dudgeon  showed  himself  to  be  a  human  being. 
Higher  and  higher  were  the  capers  that  we  cut  ;  the  moon 
repeated  in  shadow  our  antic  footsteps  and  gestures  ;  and 
it  came  over  my  mind  of  a  sudden — really  like  balm — Avliat 
appearance  of  man  I  was  dancing  with,  what  a  long  bilious 
countenance  he  had  shown  under  his  shaven  pate,  and  what 
.a  world  of  trouble  the  rascal  had  given  me  in  the  imme- 
diate past. 

Presently  we  began  to  see  the  lights  of  Bedford.  My 
Puritanic  companion  stopped  and  disengaged  himself. 

"  This  is  a  trifle  infra  dig.,  sir,  is  it  not  ?  "  said  he.  '^  A 
party  might  suppose  we  had  been  drinking." 

'^  And  so  you  shall  be.  Dudgeon,"  said  I.  "  You  shall 
not  only  be  drinking,  you  old  hypocrite,  but  you  shall  be 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   ATTORNEY'S   CLERK       1G5 

drunk — dead  drunk,  sir — and  the  boots  shall  put  you  to 
bed  I  We'll  warn  him  when  we  go  in.  Never  neglect  a  pre- 
caution ;  never  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  you  can  do 
to-day  ! " 

But  he  had  no  more  frivolity  to  complain  of.  We 
finished  our  stage  and  came  to  the  inn-door  with  decorum, 
to  find  the  house  still  alight  and  in  a  bustle  Avitli  many  late 
arrivals  ;  to  give  our  orders  with  a  prompt  severity  whicli 
ensured  obedience,  and  to  be  served  soon  after  at  a  side 
table,  close  to  the  fire  and  in  a  blaze  of  candle-light,  with 
such  a  meal  as  I  had  been  dreaming  of  for  days  past.  For 
days,  you  are  to  remember,  I  had  been  skulking  in  the 
covered  cart,  a  prey  to  cold,  hunger,  and  an  accumulation 
of  discomforts  that  might  have  daunted  the  most  brave  ; 
and  the  white  table  napery,  the  bright  crystal,  the  rever- 
beration of  the  fire,  the  red  curtains,  the  Turkey  carpet, 
the  portraits  on  the  coffee-room  wall,  the  placid  faces  of 
the  two  or  three  late  guests  who  were  silently  prolonging 
the  pleasures  of  digestion,  and  (last,  but  not  by  any  means 
least)  a  glass  of  an  excellent  light  dry  port,  put  me  in  a 
humour  only  to  be  described  as  heavenly.  The  thought  of 
the  Colonel,  of  how  he  would  have  enjoyed  this  snug  room 
and  roaring  fire,  and  of  his  cold  grave  in  the  wood  l^y 
Market  Bosworth,  lingered  on  my  palate,  a  inari  alviiia, 
like  an  after-taste,  but  was  not  able — I  say  it  with  shame — 
entirely  to  dispel  my  self-complacency.  After  all,  in  this 
world  every  dog  hangs  by  its  own  tail.  I  was  a  free  ad- 
venturer, who  had  just  brought  to  a  successful  end — or,  at 
least,  within  view  of  it — an  adventure  very  difficult  and 
alarming  ;  and  I  looked  across  at  Mr.  Dudgeon,  as  tlie  port 
rose  to  his  cheeks,  and  a  smile,  that  was  semi-confidential 
and  a  trifle  foolish,  began  to  play  upon  his  leathery  feat- 
ures, not  only  with  composure,  but  with  a  suspicion  of 
^indness.     The  rascal  had  been  brave,  a  quality  for  whicli 


166  ST.    IVES 

I  would  value  the  devil  ;  and  if  he  had  been  pertinacious 
in  the  beginnuig,  he  had  more  than  made  up  for  it  before 
the  end. 

"  And  now.  Dudgeon,  to  explain/'  I  began.  "  I  know 
your  master,  he  knows  me,  and  he  knows  and  approves  of 
my  errand.  So  much  I  may  tell  you,  that  I  am  on  my  way 
to  Amersham  Place." 

''  Oho  ! "  quoth  Dudgeon,  "  I  begin  to  see." 

^' I  am  heartily  glad  of  it,"  said  I,  passing  the  bottle, 
'^  because  that  is  about  all  I  can  tell  you.  You  must  take 
my  word  for  the  remainder.  Either  believe  me,  or  don't. 
If  you  don't,  let's  take  a  chaise  ;  you  can  carry  me  to-mor- 
row to  High  Holborn,  and  confront  me  with  Mr.  Komaine  ; 
the  result  of  which  will  be  to  set  your  mind  at  rest — and  to 
make  the  holiest  disorder  in  your  master's  plans.  If  I  judge 
you  aright  (for  I  find  you  a  shrewd  fellow),  this  will  not  be 
at  all  to  your  mind.  You  know  what  a  subordinate  gets  by 
ofiiciousness  ;  if  I  can  trust  my  memory,  old  Romaine  has 
not  at  all  the  face  that  I  should  care  to  see  in  anger  ;  and  I 
venture  to  predict  surprising  results  upon  your  weekly 
salary — if  you  are  paid  by  the  week,  that  is.  In  short,  let 
me  go  free,  and  'tis  an  end  of  the  matter  ;  take  me  to  Lon- 
don, and  'tis  only  a  beginning — and,  by  my  opinion,  a 
beginning  of  troubles.     You  can  take  your  choice." 

'*^  And  that  is  soon  taken,"  said  he.  "  Go  to  Amersham 
to-morrow,  or  go  to  the  devil  if  you  prefer — I  wash  my 
hands  of  you  and  the  whole  transaction.  Ko,  you  don't 
find  me  putting  my  head  in  between  Romaine  and  a  client  ! 
K  good  man  of  business,  sir,  but  hard  as  millstone  grit. 
I  might  get  the  sack,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  I  But,  it's  a 
pity,  too,"  he  added,  and  sighed,  shook  his  head,  and  took 
his  glass  off  sadly. 

"  That  reminds  me,"  said  I.  "  I  have  a  great  curiosity, 
and  you  can  satisfy  it.  Why  were  you  so  forward  to  meddle 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S   CLEKK        \C)7 

with  poor  Mr.  Dubois  ?  Why  did  yon  transfer  your  atten- 
tions to  me  ?  And  generally,  what  induced  you  to  make 
yourself  such  a  nuisance  ?  " 

He  blushed  deeply. 

''  Why,  sir,"  says  he,  ''  there  is  such  a  thing  as  patriot- 
ism, I  hope/' 


CHAPTER   XVI 

THE   HOME-COMING   OF   MR.    ROWLEY'S   VISC0UN"T 

By  eight  the  next  morning  Dudgeon  and  I  had  made 
onr  parting.  By  that  time  we  had  grown  to  be  extremely 
familiar  ;  and  I  would  very  willingly  have  kept  him  by 
me,  and  even  carried  him  to  Amersham  Place.  But  it 
appeared  he  was  due  at  the  public-house  where  we  had 
met,  on  some  affairs  of  my  great-uncle  the  Count,  who 
had  an  outlying  estate  in  that  part  of  the  shire.  If  Dud- 
geon had  had  his  way  the  night  before,  I  should  have  been 
arrested  on  my  uncle's  land  and  by  my  uncle's  agent,  a 
culmination  of  ill-luck. 

A  little  after  noon  I  started,  in  a  hired  chaise,  by  way 
of  Dunstable.  The  mere  mention  of  the  name  Amersham 
Place  made  every  one  supple  and  smiling.  It  Avas  plainly 
a  great  house,  and  my  uncle  lived  there  in  style.  The 
fame  of  it  rose  as  we  approached,  like  a  chain  of  moun- 
tains ;  at  Bedford  they  touched  their  caps,  but  in  Dunstable 
they  crawled  upon  their  bellies.  I  thought  the  landlady 
would  have  kissed  me  ;  such  a  flutter  of  cordiality,  such 
smiles,  such  affectionate  attentions  were  called  forth,  and 
the  good  lady  bustled  on  my  service  in  such  a  pother  of 
ringlets  and  with  such  a  jingling  of  keys.  "  You're  prob- 
ably expected,  sir,  at  the  Place  ?  I  do  trust  you  may 
'ave  better  accounts  of  his  lordship's  'elth,  sir.  AVe  under- 
stood that  his  lordship,  Mosha  de  Carwell,  was  main  bad. 
Ha,  sir,  we  shall  all  feel  his  loss,  poor,  dear,  noble  gen- 

168 


l\ 


MR.    ROWLEY'S   VISCOUNT  109 

tleman  ;  and  I'm  sure  nobody  more  polite  !  They  do  say, 
sir,  his  wealth  is  enormous,  and  before  the  Kevolution 
quite  a  prince  in  his  own  country  !  But  I  beg  your  par- 
don, sir  ;  'ow  I  do  run  on,  to  be  sure  ;  and  doubtless  all 
beknown  to  you  already  !  For  you  do  resemble  the  fam- 
ily, sir.  I  should  have  known  you  anywheres  by  the  liko 
ness  to  the  dear  viscount.  Ha,  poor  gentleman,  he  must 
'ave  a  'eavy  'eart  these  days." 

In  the  same  place  I  saw  out  of  the  inn  windows  a  man- 
servant passing  in  the  livery  of  my  house,  which  you  are 
to  think  I  had  never  before  seen  worn,  or  not  that  I  could 
remember.  I  had  often  enough,  indeed,  pictured  myself 
advanced  to  be  a  Marshal,  a  Duke  of  the  Empire,  a  Grand 
Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  and  some  other  kick- 
shaws of  the  kind,  with  a  perfect  rout  of  flunkeys  correctly 
dressed  in  my  own  colours.  But  it  is  one  thing  to  im- 
agine, and  another  to  see  ;  it  would  be  one  thing  to  have 
these  liveries  in  a  house  of  my  own  in  Paris — it  Avas  quite 
another  to  find  them  flaunting  in  the  heart  of  hostile  Eng- 
land ;  and  I  fear  I  should  have  made  a  fool  of  myself,  if 
the  man  had  not  been  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  and 
I  at  a  one-pane  window.  There  was  something  illusory  in 
this  transplantation  of  the  wealth  and  honours  of  a  family, 
a  thing  by  its  nature  so  deej)ly  rooted  in  the  soil ;  some- 
thing ghostly  in  this  sense  of  home-coming  so  far  from 
home. 

From  Dunstable  I  rode  away  into  a  crescendo  of  similar 
impressions.  There  are  certainly  few  things  to  be  com- 
pared with  these  castles,  or  rather  country  seats,  of  the 
English  nobility  and  gentry  ;  nor  anything  at  all  to  equal 
the  servility  of  the  population  that  dwells  in  their  neigh- 
bourhood. Though  I  was  but  driving  in  a  hired  chaise, 
word  of  my  destination  seemed  to  have  gone  abroad,  and 
the  women  curtseved  and  the  men  louted  to  me  by  tlie 


170  ST.   IVES 

wayside.  As  I  came  near,  I  began  to  ajDpreciate  the  roots 
of  this  widespread  respect.  The  look  of  my  uncle's  park 
wall,  even  from  the  outside,  had  something  of  a  princely 
character  ;  and  when  I  came  in  view  of  the  house  itself,  a 
sort  of  madness  of  vicarious  vain-glory  struck  me  dumb 
and  kept  me  staring.  It  was  about  the  size  of  the  Tuile- 
ries.  It  faced  due  north  ;  and  the  last  rays  of  the  sun,  that 
was  setting  like  a  red-hot  shot  amidst  a  tumultuous  gath- 
ering of  snow  clouds,  were  reflected  on  the  endless  rows  of 
windows.  A  portico  of  Doric  columns  adorned  the  front, 
and  would  have  done  honour  to  a  temple.  The  servant 
who  received  me  at  the  door  was  civil  to  a  fault — I  had  al- 
most said,  to  offence  ;  and  the  hall  to  which  he  admitted 
me  through  a  pair  of  glass  doors  was  warmed  and  already 
partly  lighted  by  a  liberal  chimney  heaped  with  the  roots 
of  beeches. 

^'  Vicomte  Anne  de  St.  Yves,''  said  I,  in  answer  to  the 
man's  question  ;  whereupon  he  bowed  before  me  lower  still, 
and  stepping  upon  one  side  introduced  me  to  the  truly  aw- 
ful presence  of  the  major  domo.  I  have  seen  many  digni- 
taries in  my  time,  but  none  who  quite  equalled  this  emi- 
nent being ;  who  was  good  enough  to  answer  to  the 
unassuming  name  of  "  Mr."  Dawson.  From  him  I  learned 
that  my  uncle  Avas  extremely  low,  a  doctor  in  close  attend- 
ance, Mr.  Romaine  expected  at  any  moment,  and  that  my 
cousin,  the  Vicomte  de  St.  Yves,  had  been  sent  for  the  same 
morning. 

^'  It  was  a  sudden  seizure,  then  ?  "  I  asked. 

Well,  he  would  scarcely  go  as  far  as  that.  It  was  a  de- 
cline, a  fading  away,  sir  ;  but  he  was  certainly  took  bad  the 
day  before,  had  sent  for  Mr.  Romaine,  and  the  major  domo 
had  taken  it  on  himself  a  little  later  to  send  word  to  the 
Viscount.  ^'^  It  seemed  to  me,  my  lord,"  said  he,  ^^  as  if  this 
was  a  time  when  all  the  fambly  should  be  called  together." 


MR.    ROWLEY'S   VISCOUNT  171 

I  approved  him  with  my  lips,  but  not  in  my  heart. 
Dawson  was  plainly  in  the  interests  of  my  cousin. 

''And  when  can  I  expect  to  see  my  great-uncle,  the 
Count  ?  "  said  I. 

In  tlie  evening,  I  was  told  ;  in  the  meantime  he  would 
show  me  to  my  room,  which  had  been  long  prepared  for 
me,  and  I  should  be  expected  to  dine  in  about  an  hour  with 
the  doctor,  if  my  lordship  had  no  objections. 

My  lordship  had  not  the  faintest. 

''At  the  same  time,"  I  said,  "I  have  had  an  accident  : 
I  have  unhappily  lost  my  baggage,  and  am  here  in  what  1 
stand  in.  I  don't  know  if  the  doctor  be  a  formalist,  but  it 
is  quite  impossible  I  should  appear  at  table  as  I  ouglit.'' 

He  begged  me  to  be  under  no  anxiety.  "  We  have  been 
long  expecting  you,"  said  he.     "All  is  ready." 

Such  I  found  to  be  the  truth.  A  great  room  had  been 
prepared  for  me  ;  through  the  mullioned  windows  the  last 
flicker  of  the  winter  sunset  interchanged  with  the  reverber- 
ation of  a  royal  fire  ;  the  bed  was  oj^en,  a  suit  of  evening 
clothes  was  airing  before  the  blaze,  and  from  the  far  corner 
a  boy  came  forward  with  deprecatory  smiles.  The  dream 
in  which  I  had  been  moving  seemed  to  have  reached  its 
pitch.  I  might  have  quitted  this  house  and  room  only  the 
night  before  ;  it  was  my  own  place  that  I  liad  come  to  ; 
and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  understood  the  force  of 
the  words  home  and  welcome. 

"This  will  be  all  as  you  would  want,  sir?"  said  Mr. 
Dawson.  "  This  'ere  boy,  Rowley,  we  place  entirely  at 
your  disposition.  'E's  not  exactly  a  trained  vallet,  but 
Mossho  Powl,  the  Viscount's  gentleman,  'ave  give  liim  tlie 
benefick  of  a  few  lessons,  and  it  is  'oi)ed  that  he  may  give 
sitisfection.  Hanythink  that  you  may  require,  if  you  will 
be  so  good  as  to  mention  the  same  to  Rowley,  I  will  make 
it  my  business  myself,  sir,  to  see  you  satisfied." 


172  ST.    IVES 

So  siiyiiif?,  the  eminent  and  already  detested  Mr.  Dawson 
took  his  departure,  and  I  was  left  alone  with  Rowley.  A 
iiKiii  who  may  be  said  to  have  wakened  to  consciousness  in 
tiie  prison  of  the  Abbayc,  among  tliose  ever  graceful  and 
ever  tragic  figures  of  the  brave  and  fair,  awaiting  the  hour 
of  the  guillotine  and  denuded  of  every  comfort,  Iliad  never 
known  the  luxuries  or  the  amenities  of  my  rank  in  life. 
To  be  attended  on  by  servants  I  had  only  been  accustomed 
to  in  inns.  My  toilet  had  long  been  military,  to  a  moment, 
at  tlie  note  of  a  bugle,  too  often  at  a  ditch-side.  And  it 
need  not  be  wondered  at  if  I  looked  on  my  new  valet  with 
a  certain  ditlidence.  But  I  remembered  that  if  he  was  my 
lirst  experience  of  a  valet,  I  was  his  first  trial  of  a  master. 
Cheered  by  which  consideration,  I  demanded  my  bath  in  a 
style  of  good  assurance.  There  was  a  bath-room  contig- 
uous ;  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  the  hot  Avater 
was  ready  ;  and  soon  after,  arrayed  in  a  shawl  dressing- 
gown,  and  in  a  luxury  of  contentment  and  comfort,  I  was 
reclined  in  an  easy-chair  before  the  mirror,  while  liowley, 
with  a  mixture  of  pride  and  anxiety  which  I  could  well 
understand,  laid  out  his  razors. 

"  lley,  Rowley?"  I  asked,  not  quite  resigned  to  go 
under  fire  with  such  an  inexperienced  commander.  "  It's 
all  right,  is  it  ?    You  feel  pretty  sure  of  your  weapons  ?" 

'*  Yes,  my  lord,"  he  replied.  ''It's  all  right,  I  assure 
your  lordship." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Rowley,  but  for  the  sake  of 
shortness,  would  you  mind  not  belording  me  in  private  ?  " 
said  I.  "It  will  do  very  well  if  you  call  me  Mr.  Anne.  It 
is  the  way  of  my  country,  as  I  daresay  you  know." 

Mr.  Rowley  looked  blank. 

*'  But  you're  just  as  much  a  Viscount  as  Mr.  Fowl's,  are 
you  not  ?  "  he  said. 

*'  As  Mr.  Powl's  Viscount  ?  "  said  I,  laughing.      "  0: 


MK.  Rowley's  viscount  173 

keep  your  mind  easy,  Mr.  Kowley's  is  every  bit  as  good. 
Only,  you  see,  as  I  am  of  the  younger  line,  I  bear  my 
Christian  name  along  with  the  title.  Alain  is  the  Viscount; 
I  am  the  Viscount  A?i7ie.  And  in  giving  me  the  name  of 
Mr.  Anne,  I  assure  you  you  will  be  quite  regular.'' 

"Yes,  Mr.  Anne,/'  said  the  docile  youth.  "  But  about 
the  shaving,  sir,  you  need  be  under  no  alarm.  Mr.  Fowl 
says  I  'ave  excellent  dispositions." 

''  Mr.  Fowl  ?  "  said  I.  "  That  doesn't  seem  to  me  very 
like  a  French  name." 

"  No,  sir,  indeed,  my  lord,"  said  he,  Avith  a  burst  of 
confidence.  "  No,  indeed,  Mr.  Anne,  and  it  do  not  surely. 
I  should  say  now,  it  was  more  like  Mr.  Fole." 

"And  Mr.  Fowl  is  the  Viscount's  man  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Anne,"  said  he.  "  He  'ave  a  hard  billet,  he 
do.  The  Viscount  is  a  very  particular  gentleman.  I  don't 
think  as  you'll  be,  Mr.  Anne  ?  "  he  added,  with  a  con- 
fidential smile  in  the  mirror. 

He  was  about  sixteen,  well  set  up,  with  a  pleasant, 
merry,  freckled  face,  and  a  pair  of  dancing  eyes.  There 
was  an  air  at  once  deprecatory  and  insinuating  about  the 
rascal  that  I  thought  I  recognised.  There  came  to  me 
from  my  own  boyhood  memories  of  certain  passionate  ad- 
mirations long  passed  away,  and  the  objects  of  them  long 
ago  discredited  or  dead.  I  remembered  how  anxious  I  had 
been  to  serve  those  fleeting  heroes,  how  readily  I  told  my- 
self I  would  have  died  for  them,  how  much  greater  and 
handsomer  than  life  they  had  appeared.  And  looking  in 
the  mirror,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  read  the  face  of  Row- 
ley, like  an  echo  or  a  ghost,  by  the  light  of  my  own  youth. 
I  have  always  contended  (somewhat  against  the  opinion  of 
my  friends)  that  I  am  first  of  all  an  economist ;  and  the 
last  thing  that  I  would  care  to  throw  away  is  that  very  val- 
uable piece  of  j^roperty — a  boy's  hero-worshijD. 


174  ST.   IVES 

"  Why/'  said  I,  '*"  you  shave  like  an   angel,  Mr.  Row- 

ley!" 

^'  Thank  you,  my  lord/'  said  he.  '^  Mr.  Powl  had  no 
fear  of  me.  You  may  be  sure,  sir,  I  should  never  'ave  had 
this  berth  if  I  'adn't  'ave  been  up  to  Dick.  We  been  ex- 
pecting of  you  this  month  back.  My  eye  !  I  never  see  such 
preparations.  Every  day  the  fires  has  been  kep'  up,  the 
bed  made,  and  all !  As  soon  as  it  was  known  you  were 
coming,  sir,  I  got  the  appointment  ;  and  I've  been  up  and 
down  since  then  like  a  Jack-in-the-box.  A  wheel  couldn't 
sound  in  the  avenue  but  what  I  was  at  the  window  !  I've 
had  a  many  disappointments  ;  but  to-night,  as  soon  as  you 
stepped  out  of  the  shay,  I  knew  it  was  my — it  was  you. 
0,  you  had  been  expected  I  Why,  when  I  go  down  to 
supper,  I'll  be  the  'ero  of  the  servants'  'all  :  the  'ole  of  the 
staff  is  that  curious  !  " 

^'  Well,"  said  I,  "  I  hope  you  may  be  able  to  give  a  fair 
account  of  me — sober,  steady,  industrious,  good-tempered, 
and  with  a  first-rate  character  from  my  last  place  ?" 

He  laughed  an  embarrassed  laugh.  '*  Your  hair  curls 
beautiful,"  he  said,  by  way  of  changing  the  subject. 
^'The  Viscount's  the  boy  for  curls,  though  ;  and  the  rich- 
ness of  it  is,  Mr.  Powl  tells  me  his  don't  curl  no  more  than 
that  much  twine — by  nature.  Gettin'  old,  the  Viscount 
is.     He  'ave  gone  the  pace,  'aven't  'e,  sir  ?  " 

'^  The  fact  is,"  said  I,  '^  that  I  know  very  little  about 
him.  Our  family  has  been  much  divided,  and  I  have  been 
a  soldier  from  a  child." 

''  A  soldier,  Mr.  Anne,  sir  ? "  cried  Rowley,  with  a 
sudden  feverish  animation.     '^  Was  you  ever  wounded  ?" 

It  is  contrary  to  my  principles  to  discourage  admiration 
for  myself  ;  and,  slipping  back  the  shoulder  of  the  dress- 
ing-gown, I  silently  exhibited  the  scar  which  I  had  re- 
ceived in  Edinburgh  Castle.     He  looked  at  it  with  awe. 


MR.  eowley's  viscount  175 

^'Ah,  well  I '' he  continued,  'there's  where  the  differ- 
ence comes  in  !  It's  in  the  training.  The  other  Viscount 
have  been  horse-racing,  and  dicing,  and  carrying  on  all  liis 
life.  All  right  enough,  no  doubt ;  but  what  I  do  say  is, 
that  it  don't  lead  to  nothink.     Whereas " 

"  AVhereas  Mr.  Rowley's  ?  "  I  put  in. 

^^My  Viscount  ?"  said  he.  ^MVell,  sir,  I  did  say  it; 
and  now  that  I've  seen  you,  I  say  it  again  !" 

I  could  not  refrain  from  smiling  at  this  outburst,  and 
the  rascal  caught  me  in  the  mirror  and  smiled  to  me  again. 

"  I'd  say  it  again,  Mr.  Hanne,"  he  said.  "  I  know  wliicli 
side  my  bread's  buttered.  I  know  when  a  gen'leman's  a 
gen'leman.  Mr.  Powl  can  go  to  Putney  with  his  one  I  Beg 
your  pardon,  Mr.  Anne,  for  being  so  familiar,"  said  he, 
blushing  suddenly  scarlet,  ''  I  was  especially  warned 
against  it  by  Mr.  Powl." 

^'Discipline  before  all,"  said  I.  ^'^  Follow  your  front- 
rank  man." 

With  that,  we  began  to  turn  our  attention  to  the  clothes. 
I  was  amazed  to  find  them  fit  so  well  :  not  a  la  diahle,  in 
the  haphazard  manner  of  a  soldier's  uniform  or  a  ready- 
made  suit  ;  but  with  nicety,  as  a  trained  artist  might  re- 
joice to  make  them  for  a  favourite  subject. 

''  'Tis  extraordinary,"  cried  I :  ''  these  things  fit  me  per- 
fectly." 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Anne,  yon  two  be  very  much  of  a  shape," 
said  Rowley. 

''  Who  ?     What  two  ?  "  said  I. 

''  The  Viscount,"  he  said. 

"  Damnation  !  Have  I  the  man's  clothes  on  me,  too  ?  " 
cried  I. 

But  Rowley  hastened  to  reassure  me.  On  the  first  word 
of  my  coming,  the  Count  had  put  the  matter  of  my  ward- 
robe in  the  hands  of  his  own  and  my  cousin's  tailors  ;  and 


176  ST.    IVES 

on  the  rumour  of  our  resemblance,  my  clothes  had  been 
made  to  Alain's  measure. 

^'  But  they  were  all  made  for  you  express,  Mr.  Anne. 
You  may  be  certain  the  Count  would  never  do  nothing  by 
'alf  :  fires  kep'  burning  ;  the  finest  of  clothes  ordered,  I'm 
sure,  and  a  body-servant  being  trained  a-purpose.'' 

"  Well,"  said  I,  ^'  it's  a  good  fire,  and  a  good  set-out  of 
clothes  ;  and  what  a  valet,  Mr.  Eowley  !  And  there's  one 
thing  to  be  said  for  my  cousin — I  mean  for  Mr.  Fowl's 
Viscount — he  has  a  very  fair  figure." 

"  0,  don't  you  be  took  in,  Mr.  Anne,"  quoth  the  faith- 
less Rowley  :  "  he  has  to  be  hyked  into  a  pair  of  stays  to 
get  them  things  on  !  " 

"  Come,  come,  Mr.  Rowley,"  said  I,  ''  this  is  telling- 
tales  out  of  school  !  Do  not  you  be  deceived.  The  greatest 
men  of  antiquity,  including  Ciesar  and  Hannibal  and  Pojte 
Joan,  may  have  been  very  glad,  at  my  time  of  life  or  Alains', 
to  follow  his  examjDle.  'Tis  a  misfortune  common  to  all ; 
and  really,"  said  I,  bowing  to  myself  before  the  mirror  like 
one  who  should  dance  the  minuet,  '^when  the  result  is  so 
successful  as  this,  who  would  do  anything  but  applaud  ?  " 

My  toilet  concluded,  I  marched  on  to  fresh  surprises. 
My  chamber,  my  new  valet  and  my  new  clothes  had  been 
beyond  hope  :  the  dinner,  the  soup,  the  whole  bill  of  fare 
was  a  revelation  of  the  powers  there  are  in  man.  I  had  not 
supposed  it  lay  in  the  genius  of  any  cook  to  create,  out  of 
common  beef  and  mutton,  things  so  different  and  dainty. 
The  wine  was  of  a  piece,  the  doctor  a  most  agreeable  com- 
panion ;  nor  could  I  help  reflecting  on  the  prospect  that 
all  tliis  wealth,  comfort  and  handsome  profusion  might 
still  very  possibly  become  mine.  Here  were  a  change  in- 
deed, from  the  common  soldier  and  the  camp  kettle,  the 
prisoner  and  his  prison  rations,  the  fugitive  and  the  hor- 
roi's  of  the  covered  cart  ! 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE     DESPATCH-BOX 

The  doctor  had  scarce  finished  his  meal  before  he  has- 
tened with  an  apology  to  attend  upon  his  patient ;  and 
almost  immediately  after,  I  was  myself  summoned  and 
ushered  up  the  great  staircase  and  along  interminable  cor- 
ridors to  the  bedside  of  my  great-uncle  the  Count.  You 
are  to  think  that  up  to  the  present  moment  I  had  not  set 
eyes  on  this  formidable  personage,  only  on  the  evidences 
of  his  wealth  and  kindness.  You  are  to  think  besides 
that  I  had  heard  him  miscalled  and  abused  from  my  earli- 
est childhood  up.  The  first  of  the  emigres  could  never 
expect  a  good  Avord  in  the  society  in  which  my  father 
moved.  Even  yet  the  reports  I  received  were  of  a  doubt- 
ful nature  ;  even  Romaine  had  drawn  of  him  no  very 
amiable  portrait ;  and  as  I  was  ushered  into  the  room,  it 
was  a  critical  eye  that  I  cast  on  my  great-uncle.  lie  lay 
propped  on  pillows  in  a  little  cot  no  greater  than  a  camp- 
bed,  not  visibly  breathing.  He  was  about  eighty  years  of 
age,  and  looked  it ;  not  that  his  face  was  much  lined,  but 
all  the  blood  and  colour  seemed  to  have  faded  from  his 
body,  and  even  his  eyes,  which  last  he  kept  usually  closed 
as  though  the  light  distressed  him.  There  was  an  un- 
speakable degree  of  slyness  in  his  expression,  wliic^h  kept 
me  ill  at  ease  ;  beseemed  to  lie  there  with  his  arms  folded, 
like  a  spider  waiting  for  prey.  His  speech  was  very  de- 
liberate and  courteous,  but  scarce  louder  than  a  sigh. 
13  177 


178  ST.   IVES 

"  I  bid  you  welcome.  Monsieur  le  Vicomte  Anne,"  said 
he,  looking  at  me  hard  with  his  pale  eyes,  but  not  moving 
on  his  pillows.  ^'  I  have  sent  for  you,  and  I  thank  you 
for  the  obliging  expedition  you  have  shown.  It  is  my 
misfortune  that  I  cannot  rise  to  receive  you.  I  trust  you 
have  been  reasonably  well  entertained  ?  " 

**  Monsieur  nion  onde,"  I  said,  bowing  very  low,  "1  am 
come  at  the  summons  of  the  head  of  my  family. "*' 

''  It  is  well,"  he  said.  ''  Be  seated.  I  should  be  glad 
to  hear  some  news — if  that  can  be  called  news  that  is  al- 
ready twenty  years  old — of  how  I  have  the  jileasure  to  see 
you  here.'' 

By  the  coldness  of  his  address,  not  more  than  by  the 
nature  of  the  times  that  he  bade  me  recall,  I  was  plunged 
in  melancholy.  I  felt  myself  surrounded  as  with  deserts  of 
friendlessness,  and  the  delight  of  my  welcome  was  turned 
to  ashes  in  my  mouth. 

"  That  is  soon  told,  monseigneur"  said  I.  "  I  under- 
stand that  I  need  tell  you  nothing  of  the  end  of  my  un- 
happy parents  ?     It  is  only  the  story  of  the  lost  dog/' 

**  You  are  right.  I  am  sufficiently  informed  of  that  de- 
plorable affair;  it  is  painful  to  me.  My  nephew,  your 
father,  was  a  man  Avho  would  not  be  advised,"  said  he. 
"  Tell  me,  if  you  please,  simply  of  yourself." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  run  the  risk  of  harrowing  your 
sensibility  in  the  beginning,"  said  I,  with  a  bitter  smile, 
^'because  my  story  begins  at  the  foot  of  the  guillotine. 
When  the  list  came  out  that  night,  and  her  name  was 
there,  I  w^as  already  old  enough,  not  in  years  but  in  sad 
experience,  to  understand  the  extent  of  my  misfortune. 

She "  I  paused.     "Enough  that  she  arranged  with  a 

friend,  Madame  de  Chasserades,  that  she  should  take 
charge  of  me,  and  by  the  favour  of  our  jailors  I  was  suf- 
fered to  remain  in  the  shelter  of  the  Abhaye.     That  was 


THE   DESPATCH-BOX  179 

my  only  refuge  ;  there  was  no  corner  of  France  thai  1 
conld  rest  the  sole  of  my  foot  npon  except  the  prison. 
Monsienr  le  Comte,  you  are  as  well  aware  as  I  can  he  what 
kind  of  a  life  that  was,  and  how  swiftly  death  smote  in 
that  society.  I  did  not  wait  long  hefore  the  name  of 
Madame  de  Chasserades  succeeded  to  that  of  my  motlier 
on  the  list.  She  passed  me  on  to  Madame  de  Noytot  ;  she, 
in  her  turn,  to  Mademoiselle  de  Braye  ;  and  there  were 
others.  I  was  the  one  thing  permanent;  they  were  all 
transient  as  clouds  ;  a  day  or  two  of  their  care,  and  then 
came  the  last  farewell  and — somewhere  far  off  in  that  roar- 
ing Paris  that  surrounded  us — the  bloody  scene.  I  was 
the  cherished  one,  the  last  comfort,  of  these  dying  women. 
I  have  been  in  pitched  fights,  my  loi'd,  and  I  never  knew 
such  courage.  It  was  all  done  smiling,  in  the  tone  of  good 
society  ;  helle  maman  was  the  name  I  was  taught  to  give 
to  each  ;  and  for  a  day  or  two  the  new  '  pretty  mamma ' 
would  make  much  of  me,  show  me  off,  teach  me  the  min- 
uet, and  to  say  my  prayers  ;  and  then,  with  a  tender  em- 
brace, would  go  the  way  of  her  predecessors,  smiling. 
There  were  some  that  wept  too.  There  was  a  childhood  ! 
All  the  time  Monsieur  de  Oulemberg  kept  his  eye  on  me, 
and  Avould  have  had  me  out  of  the  Abhaye  and  in  his  own 
protection,  but  my  *^  pretty  mammas '  one  after  another 
resisted  the  idea.  AVliere  could  I  be  safer  ?  they  argued  ; 
and  what  was  to  become  of  them  without  the  darling  of 
the  prison  ?  Well,  it  was  soon  shown  how  safe  1  was  ! 
The  dreadful  day  of  the  massacre  came  ;  the  prison  was 
overrun  ;  none  paid  attention  to  me,  not  even  the  last  of 
my  '  pretty  mammas,'  for  she  had  met  another  fate.  I  was 
wandering  distracted,  when  I  was  found  by  some  one  in 
the  interests  of  Monsieur  de  Oulemberg.  I  understand  he 
was  sent  on  purpose  ;  I  believe,  in  order  to  reach  the  in- 
terior of  the  prison,  he  had  set  his  hand  to  nameless  bar- 


180  ST.    IVES 

barities  :  such  was  tlie  price  paid  for  my  worthless,  whim- 
pering little  life  !  He  gave  me  his  hand  ;  it  was  wet,  and 
mine  was  reddened  ;  he  led  me  unresisting.  I  remember 
but  the  one  circumstance  of  my  flight — it  was  my  last  view 
of  my  last  pretty  mamma.  Shall  I  describe  it  to  you  ? ''  I 
asked  the  Count,  with  a  sudden  fierceness. 

"Avoid  unpleasant  details/'  observed  my  great-uncle, 
gently. 

At  these  words  a  sudden  peace  fell  upon  me.  I  had  been 
angry  with  the  man  before  ;  I  had  not  sought  to  spare  him  ; 
and  now,  in  a  moment,  I  saw  that  there  was  nothing  to 
spare.  Whether  from  natural  heartlessness  or  extreme  old 
age,  the  soul  was  not  at  home  ;  and  my  benefactor,  who 
had  kept  the  fire  lit  in  my  room  for  a  month  past — my 
only  relative  except  Alain,  whom  I  knew  already  to  be  a 
hired  spy — had  trodden  out  the  last  sparks  of  hope  and 
interest. 

'^  Certainly,^'  said  I ;  "and,  indeed,  the  day  for  them  is 
nearly  over.  I  was  taken  to  Monsieur  de  Culemberg's, — 
I  presume,  sir,  that  you  know  the  Abbe  de  Culemberg  ?  " 

He  indicated  assent  without  opening  his  e3'es. 

"  He  was  a  very  brave  and  a  very  learned  man " 

"  And  a  very  holy  one,"  said  my  uncle  civilly. 

"And  a  very  holy  one,  as  you  observe/'  I  continued. 
"  He  did  an  infinity  of  good,  and  through  all  the  Terror 
kept  himself  from  the  guillotine.  He  brought  me  up,  and 
gave  me  such  education  as  I  have.  It  was  in  his  house  in 
the  country  at  Dammarie,  near  Melun,  that  I  made  the 
acquaintance  of  your  agent,  Mr.  Vicary,  who  lay  there 
in  hiding,  only  to  fall  a  victim  at  the  last  to  a  gang  of 
chauffeurs." 

"  This  poor  Mr.  Vicary  !  "  observed  my  uncle.  "  He 
had  been  many  times  in  my  interests  to  France,  and  this 
was  his  first  failure.    Qiiel  charmant  homme,  ned-ce pasV' 


THE  DESPATCH-BOX  181 

'infinitely  so/'  said  I.  '^But  I  would  not  willingly 
detain  you  any  farther  with  a  story,  the  details  of  which  it 
must  naturally  be  more  or  less  unpleasant  for  you  to  hear. 
Suffice  it  that,  by  M.  de  Culemberg's  advice,  I  said  fare- 
well at  eighteen  to  that  kind  precei)tor  and  his  books,  and 
entered  the  service  of  France  ;  and  have  since  tlien  carried 
arms  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  disgrace  my  family." 

''  You  narrate  well;  vous  auez  la  voix  chaude"  said  my 
uncle,  turning  on  his  pillows  as  if  to  study  me.  ''  I  have 
a  very  good  account  of  you  by  Monsieur  de  Mauseant, 
whom  you  helped  in  Spain.  And  you  had  some  education 
from  the  Abbe  de  Culemberg,  a  man  of  a  good  house  ? 
Yes,  you  will  do  very  well.  You  have  a  good  manner  and 
a  handsome  person,  which  hurts  nothing.  We  are  all 
handsome  in  the  family  ;  even  I  myself,  I  have  had  my 
successes,  the  memories  of  which  still  charm  me.  It  is  my 
intention,  my  nephew,  to  make  of  you  my  heir.  I  am  not 
very  well  content  with  my  other  nephew.  Monsieur  le 
Vicomte  :  he  has  not  been  respectful,  which  is  the  flattery 
due  to  age.     And  there  are  other  matters." 

I  was  half  tempted  to  throw  back  in  his  face  that  in- 
heritance so  coldly  offered.  At  the  same  time  I  had  to 
consider  that  he  was  an  old  man,  and,  after  all,  my  rela- 
tion ;  and  that  I  was  a  poor  one,  in  considerable  straits, 
with  a  hope  at  heart  which  that  inheritance  might  yet  en- 
able me  to  realise.  Nor  could  I  forget  that,  however  icy 
his  manners,  he  had  behaved  to  me  from  the  first  with  the 
extreme  of  liberality  and — I  was  about  to  write,  kindness, 
but  the  word,  in  that  connection,  would  not  come.  I 
really  owed  the  man  some  measure  of  gratitude,  which  it 
would  be  an  ill  manner  to  repay  if  I  were  to  insult  him  on 
his  deathbed. 

"  Your  will,  monsieur,  must  ever  be  my  rule,"  said  I, 
bowing. 


182  ST.   IVES 

''Yon  have  wit,  monsieur  mon  ncvcu"  said  he,  "the 
best  wit — the  wit  of  silence.  Many  might  have  deafened 
me  with  their  gratitnde.  Gratitnde  ! ''  he  repeated,  with 
a  peculiar  intonation,  and  lay  and  smiled  to  himself.  "  But 
to  approach  what  is  more  important.  As  a  prisoner  of  war, 
will  it  be  possible  for  you  to  be  served  heir  to  English  es- 
tates ?  I  have  no  idea  :  long  as  I  have  dwelt  in  England,  I 
have  never  studied  what  they  call  their  laws.  On  the  other 
hand,  how  if  Romaine  should  come  too  late  ?  I  have  two 
pieces  of  business  to  be  transacted — to  die,  and  to  make  my 
will ;  and,  however  desirous  I  may  be  to  serve  you,  I  can- 
not postpone  the  first  in  favour  of  the  second  beyond  a 
very  few  hours." 

''Well,  sir,  I  must  then  contrive  to  be  doing  as  I  did 
before,"  said  I. 

"  Not  so,"  said  the  Count.  "  I  have  an  alternative.  I 
have  just  drawn  my  balance  at  my  banker's,  a  consideral)le 
sum,  and  I  am  now  to  place  it  in  your  hands.     It  will  be 

so  much  for  you  and  so  much  less "  he  paused,  and 

smiled  with  an  air  of  malignity  that  surprised  me.  "  But 
it  is  necessary  it  should  be  done  before  witnesses.  Mon- 
sieur le  Vicomte  is  of  a  particular  disposition,  and  an 
unwitnessed  donation  may  very  easily  be  twisted  into  a 
theft." 

He  touched  a  bell,  which  was  answered  by  a  man  having 
the  appearance  of  a  confidential  valet.  To  him  he  gave  a 
key. 

"Bring  me  the  despatch-box  that  came  yesterday.  La 
Ferriere,"  said  he.  "  You  will  at  the  same  time  present 
my  compliments  to  Dr.  Hunter  and  M.  I'Abbe,  and  re- 
quest them  to  step  for  a  few  moments  to  my  room." 

The  despatch-box  proved  to  be  rather  a  bulky  piece  of 
baggage,  covered  with  Russia  leather.  Before  the  doctor 
and  an  excellent  old  smiling  priest  it  was  passed  over  into 


THE   DESPATCII-BOX  183 

my  hands  with  a  very  clear  statement  of  the  disposer's 
wishes  ;  immediately  after  which,  though  the  witnesses  re- 
mained behind  to  draw  up  and  sign  a  joint  note  of  tlie 
transaction.  Monsieur  de  Keroual  dismissed  me  to  my  own 
room,  La  Ferriere  following  with  the  invaluable  box. 

At  my  chamber  door  I  took  it  from  him  with  thanks, 
and  entered  alone.  Everything  had  been  already  disposed 
for  the  night,  the  curtains  drawn  and  the  fire  trimmed  ; 
and  Eowley  was  still  busy  with  my  bedclothes.  He  turned 
round  as  I  entered  with  a  look  of  welcome  that  did  my 
heart  good.  Indeed,  I  had  never  a  much  greater  need  of 
human  sympathy,  however  trivial,  than  at  that  moment 
when  I  held  a  fortune  in  my  arms.  In  my  uncle's  room  I 
had  breathed  the  very  atmosphere  of  disenchantment.  He 
had  gorged  my  pockets  ;  he  had  starved  every  dignified  or 
affectionate  sentiment  of  a  man.  I  had  received  so  chill- 
ing an  impression  of  age  and  experience  that  tlie  mere 
look  of  youth  drew  me  to  confide  in  Rowley  :  he  was  only 
a  boy,  his  heart  must  beat  yet,  he  must  still  retain  some 
innocence  and  natural  feelings,  he  could  blurt  out  follies 
with  his  mouth,  he  was  not  a  machine  to  utter  perfect 
speech  !  At  the  same  time,  I  was  beginning  to  outgrow 
the  painful  impressions  of  my  interview ;  my  spirits  were 
beginning  to  revive  ;  and  at  the  jolly,  empty  looks  of  Mr. 
Rowley,  as  he  ran  forward  to  relieve  me  of  the  box,  St. 
Ives  became  himself  again. 

"  Now,  Rowley,  don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  I.  "  Tliis  is 
a  momentous  juncture.  Man  and  boy,  yon  have  been  in 
my  service  about  three  hours.  You  must  already  liave  ob- 
served that  I  am  a  gentleman  of  a  somewhat  morose  dis- 
position, and  there  is  nothing  that  I  more  dislike  than  the 
smallest  appearance  of  familiarity.  Mr.  Pole  or  Mr.  Fowl, 
probably  in  the  spirit  of  prophecy,  warned  you  against  this 
danger." 


184  ST.   IVES 

''  Yes,  Mr.  Anne/'  said  Eowley  blankly. 

"Now  there  has  just  arisen  one  of  those  rare  cases,  m 
which  I  am  willing  to  depart  from  my  principles.  My 
uncle  has  given  me  a  box — what  you  would  call  a  Christ- 
mas box.  I  don't  know  what's  in  it,  and  no  more  do  you  : 
perhaps  I  am  an  April  fool,  or  perhaps  I  am  already  enor- 
mously wealthy  ;  there  might  be  five  hundred  pounds  in 
this  apparently  harmless  receptacle  !  " 

*^  Lord,  Mr.  Anne  !"  cried  Eowley. 

"  Now,  Rowley,  hold  up  your  right  hand  and  repeat  the 
words  of  the  oath  after  me,"  said  I,  laying  the  despatch- 
box  on  the  table.  '^  Strike  me  blue  if  I  ever  disclose  to 
Mr.  Fowl,  or  ^Ir.  Fowl's  Viscount,  or  anything  that  is  Mr. 
Fowl's,  not  to  mention  Mr.  Dawson  and  the  doctor,  the 
treasures  of  the  following  despatch-box  ;  and  strike  me  sky- 
blue  scarlet  if  I  do  not  continually  maintain,  uphold,  love, 
honour  and  obey,  serve,  and  follow  to  the  four  corners  of 
the  earth  and  the  waters  that  are  under  the  earth,  the 
hereinafter  before-mentioned  (only  that  I  find  I  have  neg- 
lected to  mention  him)  Viscount  Anne  de  Keroual  de 
St. -Yves,  commonly  known  as  Mr.  Rowley's  Viscount.  So 
be  it.     Amen." 

He  took  the  oath  with  the  same  exaggerated  seriousness 
as  I  gave  it  to  him. 

"  Now,"  said  I.  "  Here  is  the  key  for  you  ;  I  will  hold 
the  lid  with  both  hands  in  the  meanwhile."  He  turned 
the  key.  ''  Bring  up  all  the  candles  in  the  room,  and 
range  them  alongside.  What  is  it  to  be  ?  A  live  gorgon, 
a  Jack-in-the-box,  or  a  spring  that  fires  a  pistol  ?  On  your 
knees,  sir,  before  the  prodigy  !  " 

So  saying,  I  turned  the  despatch-box  upside  down  upon 
the  table.  At  sight  of  the  heap  of  bank  paper  and  gold 
that  lay  in  front  of  us,  between  the  candles,  or  rolled  upon 
the  floor  alongside,  I  stood  astonished. 


THE  DESPATCH-BOX  186 

^^0  Lord  !'' cried  Mr.  Rowley ;  ^'OLordy,  Lordy,  Lord  I" 
and  he  scrambled  after  the  fallen  guineas.  ''  0  my,  Mr. 
Anne  !  what  a  sight  o'  money  !  AYhy,  it's  like  a  blessed 
story-book.     It's  like  the  Forty  Thieves." 

"  Now,  Rowley,  let's  be  cool,  let's  be  businesslike,"  said 
I.  "  Riches  are  deceitful,  particularly  when  you  haven't 
counted  them  ;  and  the  first  thing  we  have  to  do  is  to  ar- 
rive at  the  amount  of  my — let  me  say,  modest  competency. 
If  I'm  not  mistaken,  I  have  enough  here  to  keep  you  in 
gold  buttons  all  the  rest  of  your  life.  You  collect  the  gold, 
and  I'll  take  the  paper." 

Accordingly,  down  we  sat  together  on  the  hearthrug, 
and  for  some  time  there  was  no  sound  but  the  creasing  of 
bills  and  the  jingling  of  guineas,  broken  occasionally  by  the 
exulting  exclamations  of  Rowley.  The  arithmetical  oper- 
ation on  which  we  were  embarked  took  long,  and  it  might 
have  been  tedious  to  others  ;  not  to  me  nor  to  my  helper. 

^'  Ten  thousand  pounds  ! "  I  announced  at  last. 

*'  Ten  thousand  !  "  echoed  Mr.  Rowley. 

And  we  gazed  upon  each  other. 

The  greatness  of  this  fortune  took  my  breath  away. 
With  that  sum  in  my  hands,  I  need  fear  no  enemies.  Peo- 
ple are  arrested,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  not  because  the 
police  are  astute,  but  because  they  themselves  run  short 
of  money  ;  and  I  had  here  before  me  in  the  despateli-box  a 
succession  of  devices  and  disguises  that  insured  my  liberty. 
Not  only  so  ;  but,  as  I  felt  with  a  sudden  and  overpower- 
ing thrill,  with  ten  thousand  pounds  in  my  hands  I  was 
become  an  eligible  suitor.  What  advances  I  had  made  in 
the  past,  as  a  private  soldier  in  a  military  prison,  or  a  fugi- 
tive by  the  wayside,  could  only  be  qualified  or,  indeed,  ex- 
cused as  acts  of  desperation.  And  now,  I  miglit  come  in  by 
the  front  door  ;  I  might  approach  the  dragon  witli  a  lawyer 
at  my  elbow,  and  rich  settlements  to  offer.   The  poor  Fi-fuch 


186  ST.    IVES 

prisoner,  Champdivers,  might  be  in  a  perpetual  danger  of 
arrest ;  but  the  rich  travelling  Englishman,  St.  Ives,  in  his 
post-chaise,  with  his  despatch-box  by  his  side,  could  smile 
at  fate  and  laugh  at  locksmiths.  I  repeated  the  proverb, 
exulting.  Love  laughs  at  locTcsmitlis !  In  a  moment,  by 
the  mere  coming  of  this  money,  my  love  had  become  pos- 
sible— it  had  come  near,  it  was  under  my  hand — and  it  may 
be  by  one  of  the  curiosities  of  human  nature,  but  it  burned 
that  instant  brighter. 

^'  Rowley,"  said  I,  ^'^your  Viscount  is  a  made  man." 

*'  Why,  we  both  are,  sir,"  said  Eowley. 

''Yes,  both,"  said  I ;  ''and  you  shall  dance  at  the  wed- 
ding ;"  and  I  flung  at  his  head  a  bundle  of  bank  notes, 
and  had  just  followed  it  up  with  a  handful  of  guineas, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Romaine  appeared  upon 
the  threshold. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MR.    ROMAINE   CALLS   ME   KAMES 

Feelij^g  very  much  of  a  fool  to  be  tlnis  taken  by  sur- 
prise, I  scrambled  to  my  feet  and  hastened  to  make  my 
visitor  welcome.  He  did  not  refuse  me  his  hand  ;  but  he 
gave  it  with  a  coldness  and  distance  for  which  I  was  quite 
unprepared,  and  his  countenance,  as  he  looked  on  me,  was 
marked  in  a  strong  degree  with  concern  and  severity. 

*'So,  sir,  I  find  you  here  ?"  said  he,  in  tones  of  little 
encouragement.  ''Is  that  you,  George?  You  can  run 
away;  I  have  business  with  your  master." 

He  showed  Rowley  out,  and  locked  the  door  behind  liim. 
Then  he  sat  down  in  an  armchair  on  one  side  of  tlie  fire, 
and  looked  at  me  with  uncompromising  sternness. 

'•"I  am  hesitating  how  to  begin,"  said  he.  *' In  tin's 
singular  labyrinth  of  blunders  and  difficulties  that  you 
have  prepared  for  us,  I  am  positively  hesitating  where  to 
begin.  It  will  perhaps  be  best  that  you  should  read,  first  of 
all,  this  paragraph."  And  he  handed  over  to  me  a  news- 
paper. 

The  paragraph  in  question  was  brief.  It  announced  the 
recapture  of  one  of  the  prisoners  recently  escaped  from 
Edinburgh  Castle  ;  gave  his  name,  Clausel,  and  added  tliat 
he  had  entered  into  the  particulars  of  the  recent  revolting 
murder  in  the  Castle,  and  denounced  the  murderer  : — 

"It  is  a  common  soldier  called  Champdivers,  who  had  himself  es- 
caped, and  is  in  all  probability  involved  in  the  common  fate  of  his 

187 


188  ST.    IVES 

comrades.  In  spite  of  the  activity  along  all  the  Forth  and  the  East 
Coast,  nothing  has  yet  been  seen  of  the  sloop  which  these  desperadoes 
seized  at  Grangemouth,  and  it  is  now  almost  certain  that  they  have 
found  a  watery  grave," 

At  the  reading  of  this  paragraph  my  heart  turned  over. 
In  a  moment  I  saw  my  castle  in  the  air  ruined  ;  myself 
changed  from  a  mere  military  fugitive  into  a  hunted  mur- 
derer, fleeing  from  the  gallows  ;  my  love,  which  had  a 
moment  since  appeared  so  near  to  me,  blotted  from  the 
field  of  possibility.  Despair,  which  was  my  first  senti- 
ment, did  not,  however,  endure  for  more  than  a  moment. 
I  saw  that  my  companions  had  indeed  succeeded  in  their 
unlikely  design ;  and  that  I  was  supposed  to  have  accom- 
panied and  perished  along  with  them  by  shipwreck — a 
most  probable  ending  to  their  enterprise.  If  they  thouglit 
me  at  the  bottom  of  the  North  Sea,  I  need  not  fear  much 
vigilance  on  the  streets  of  Edinburgh.  Champdivers  was 
wanted  :  what  was  to  connect  him  with  St.  Ives  ?  Major 
Chevenix  would  recognise  me  if  he  met  me  ;  that  was  be- 
yond bargaining :  he  had  seen  me  so  often,  his  interest 
had  been  kindled  to  so  high  a  point,  that  I  could  hope  to 
deceive  him  by  no  stratagem  of  disguise.  Well,  even  so  ; 
he  Avould  have  a  competition  of  testimony  before  him  :  he 
knew  Clausel,  he  knew  me,  and  I  was  sure  he  would  de- 
cide for  honour.  At  the  same  time,  the  image  of  Flora 
shot  up  in  my  mind's  eye  with  such  a  radiancy  as  fairly 
overwhelmed  all  other  considerations  ;  the  blood  sprang  to 
every  corner  of  my  body,  and  I  vowed  I  would  see  and  win 
her,  if  it  cost  my  neck. 

*'  Very  annoying,  no  doubt,"  said  I,  as  I  returned  the 
paper  to  Mr.  Romaine. 

*'  Is  annoying  your  word  for  it  ?  "  said  he. 

"Exasperating,  if  you  like,"  I  admitted. 

"  And  true  ?  "  he  inquired. 


MR.    ROMAINE  CALLS   ME  NAMES  189 

''Well,  true  in  a  sense,"  said  I.  '^Biit  p'?rliaps  I  liad 
better  answer  that  question  by  putting  3'ou  in  possession 
of  the  facts?" 

"  I  think  so,  indeed,"  said  he. 

I  narrated  to  him  as  much  as  seemed  necessar}^  of  tlie 
quarrel,  the  duel,  the  death  of  Goguelat,  and  tlie  character 
of  Clausel.  He  heard  me  through  in  a  forbidding  silence, 
nor  did  he  at  all  betray  the  nature  of  his  sentiments,  exce])t 
that,  at  the  episode  of  the  scissors,  I  could  observe  his 
mulberry  face  to  turn  three  shades  paler. 

''  I  suppose  I  may  believe  you  ? "  said  he,  when  I  had 
done. 

''  Or  else  conclude  this  interview,"  said  I. 

'^  Can  you  not  understand  that  we  are  here  discussing 
matters  of  the  gravest  import  ?  Can  you  not  understand 
that  I  feel  myself  weighed  with  a  load  of  responsibility  on 
your  account — that  you  should  take  this  occasion  to  air 
your  fire-eating  manners  against  your  own  attorney  ? 
There  are  serious  hours  in  life,  Mr.  Anne,"  he  said  se- 
verely. "  A  capital  charge,  and  that  of  a  very  brutal  charac- 
ter and  with  singularly  unpleasant  details  ;  the  presence  of 
the  man  Clausel,  who  (according  to  your  account  of  it)  is 
actuated  by  sentiments  of  real  malignity,  and  prepared  to 
swear  black  white  ;  all  the  other  witnesses  scattered  and 
perhaps  drowned  at  sea;  the  natural  prejudice  against  a 
Frenchman  and  a  runaway  prisoner:  this  makes  a  serious 
total  for  your  lawyer  to  consider,  and  is  by  no  ine;ins  les- 
sened by  the  incurable  folly  and  levity  of  your  own  dispo- 
sition." 

^^  I  beg  your  pardon  ! "  said  I. 

''  0,  my  expressions  have  been  selected  with  scrupu- 
lous accuracy,"  he  replied.  '^  How  did  I  find  you,  sir, 
when  I  came  to  announce  this  catastroi)he  ?  You  were 
sitting  on  the  hearthrug  playing,  like  a  silly  baby,  with  a 


190  ST.   IVES 

servant,  were  yon  not,  and  the  floor  all  scattered  with  gold 
and  bank  pr,per  ?  There  was  a  tableau  for  yon  !  It  was  I 
who  came,  and  you  were  lucky  in  that.  It  might  have 
been  any  one — your  cousin  as  well  as  another/' 

''You  have  me  there,  sir/' I  admitted.  ''I  had  neg- 
lected all  precautions,  and  you  do  right  to  be  angry. 
Apropos,  Mr.  Komaine,  how  did  you  come  yourself,  and 
how  long  have  you  been  m  the  house  ?"  I  added,  surprised, 
on  the  retrospect,  not  to  have  heard  him  arrive. 

^'  I  drove  up  in  a  chaise  and  pair,''  he  returned.  ''  Any 
one  might  have  heard  me.  But  you  were  not  listening,  I 
suppose  ?  being  so  extremely  at  your  ease  in  the  very 
house  of  your  enemy,  and  under  a  capital  charge  !  And 
I  have  been  long  enough  here  to  do  your  business  for  you. 
Ah,  yes,  I  did  it,  God  forgive  me  !— did  it  before  I  so 
much  as  asked  you  the  explanatioii  of  the  paragraph.  For 
some  time  back  the  will  has  been  prepared  ;  now  it  is 
signed  ;  and  your  uncle  has  heard  nothing  of  your  recent 
piece  of  activity.  Why  ?  Well,  I  had  no  fancy  to  bother 
him  on  his  death-bed  :  you  might  be  innocent ;  and  at 
bottom  I  preferred  the  murderer  to  the  spy." 

No  doubt  of  it  but  the  man  played  a  friendly  part ;  no 
doubt  also  that,  in  his  ill-temper  and  anxiety,  he  expressed 
himself  unpalatably. 

''You  will  perhaps  find  me  over-delicate,"  said  I. 
"There  is  a  word  you  employed " 

"  I  employ  the  words  of  my  brief,  sir,"  he  cried,  strik- 
ing with  his  hand  on  the  newspaper.  "  It  is  there  in  six 
letters.  And  do  not  be  so  certain — you  have  not  stood 
your  trial  yet.  It  is  an  ugly  affair,  a  fishy  business.  It 
is  highly  disagreeable.  I  would  give  my  hand  oif — I  mean 
I  would  give  a  hundred  pound  down,  to  have  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  And,  situated  as  we  are,  we  must  at  once  take 
action.     There  is  here  no  choice.     You  must  first  of  all 


MK.    ROMAINE   CALLS   ME   NAMES  191 

quit  this  conntry,  and  get  to  France,  or  Holland,  or,  in- 
deed, to  Madagascar." 

''  There  may  be  two  words  to  that,"  said  I. 

''Not  so  much  as  one  syllable!"  he  retorted.  ''Here 
is  no  room  for  argument.  The  case  is  nakedly  plain.  In 
the  disgusting  2:)osition  in  which  you  have  found  means  to 
place  yourself,  all  that  is  to  be  hoped  for  is  delay.  A  time 
may  come  when  we  shall  be  able  to  do  better.  It  cannot 
be  now  :  now  it  would  be  the  gibbet." 

"  You  labour  under  a  false  impression,  Mr.  Romainc," 
said  I.  ''I  have  no  impatience  to  figure  in  the  dock.  I 
am  even  as  anxious  as  yourself  to  postpone  my  first  ap- 
pearance there.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  not  the  slight- 
est intention  of  leaving  this  country,  where  I  please  my- 
self extremely.  I  have  a  good  address,  a  ready  tongue,  an 
English  accent  that  passes,  and,  thanks  to  the  generos- 
ity of  my  uncle,  as  much  money  as  I  want.  It  would  be 
hard  indeed  if,  with  all  these  advantages,  Mr.  St.  Ives 
should  not  be  able  to  live  quietly  in  a  private  lodging, 
while  the  authorities  amuse  themselves  by  looking  for 
Champdivers.  You  forget,  there  is  no  connection  between 
these  two  personages." 

"  And  you  forget  your  cousin,"  retorted  Romaine. 
"  There  is  the  link.  There  is  the  tongue  of  tlic  buckle. 
He  knows  you  are  Champdivers."  He  put  up  his  hand  as 
if  to  listen.  "  And,  for  a  wager,  here  he  is  himself  !  "  he 
exclaimed. 

As  when  a  tailor  takes  a  piece  of  goods  upon  his  counter, 
and  rends  it  across,  there  came  to  our  ears  from  the  avenue 
the  long  tearing  sound  of  a  chaise  and  four  api)roacliing 
at  the  top  speed  of  the  horses.  And,  looking  out  between 
the  curtains,  we  beheld  the  lamps  skimming  on  the  smootli 
ascent. 

"  Ay,"  said  Romaine,  wiping  the  window-pane  that  he 


192  ST.   IVES 

might  see  more  clearly.  "  Ay,  that  is  he,  by  the  driving  ! 
So  he  squanders  money  along  the  king's  highway,  the 
triple  idiot !  gorging  every  man  he  meets  with  gold  for 
the  pleasure  of  arriving — where  ?  Ah,  yes,  where  but  a 
debtor's  jail,  if  not  a  criminal  prison  !  " 

**  Is  he  that  kind  of  a  man  ?  "  I  asked,  staring  on  these 
lamps  as  though  I  could  decipher  in  them  the  secret  of  my 
cousin's  character. 

'*  You  will  find  him  a  dangerous  kind,"  answ^ered  the 
lawyer.  "  For  you,  these  are  the  lights  on  a  lee  shore  !  I 
find  I  fall  in  a  muse  when  I  consider  of  him  ;  what  a  for- 
midable being  he  once  was,  and  what  a  personable  !  and 
how  near  he  draws  to  the  moment  that  must  break  him 
utterly  !  We  none  of  us  like  him  here ;  we  hate  him, 
rather  ;  and  yet  I  have  a  sense — I  don't  think  at  my  time 
of  life  it  can  be  pity — but  a  reluctance  rather,  to  break 
anything  so  big  and  figurative,  as  though  he  were  a  big 
porcelain  pot  or  a  big  jiicture  of  high  price.  Ay,  there  is 
what  I  was  waiting  for  ! "  he  cried,  as  the  lights  of  a  sec- 
ond chaise  swam  in  sight.  ^^  It  is  he  beyond  a  doubt.  The 
first  was  the  signature  and  the  next  the  flourish.  Two 
chaises,  the  second  following  with  the  baggage,  which  is 
always  copious  and  ponderous,  and  one  of  his  valets  :  he 
cannot  go  a  step  without  a  valet." 

"I  hear  you  repeat  the  word  big,"  said  I.  **But  it 
cannot  be  that  he  is  anything  out  of  the  way  in  stature." 

''No,"  said  the  attorney.  ^' About  your  height,  as  I 
guessed  for  the  tailors,  and  I  see  nothing  Avrong  with  the 
result.  But,  somehow,  he  commands  an  atmosphere  ;  he 
has  a  spacious  manner  ;  and  he  has  kept  up,  all  through 
life,  such  a  volume  of  racket  about  his  personality,  with 
his  chaises  and  his  racers  and  his  dicings,  and  I  know  not 
what — that  somehow  he  imposes  !  It  seems,  when  the 
farce  is  done,  and  he  locked  in  the  Fleet  prison — and  no- 


MR.    ROMAINE   CALLS   ME   NAMES  lOli 


body  left   but  Bonaparte   and  Lord  Wellington   and  tl 


lie 


Hetman  Platoff  to  make  a  work  about— the  world  will  l)e 
in  a  comparison  quite  tranquil.  But  this  is  beside  the 
mark,"  he  added,  with  an  effort,  turning  again  from  tlie 
window.  'MVe  are  now  under  fire,  Mr.  Anne,  as  you 
soldiers  would  say,  and  it  is  high  time  we  should  prepare 
to  go  into  action.  He  must  not  see  you  ;  that  would  be 
fatal.  All  that  he  knows  at  present  is  that  you  resemble 
him,  and  that  is  much  more  than  enough.  If  it  were  pos- 
sible, it  would  be  well  he  should  not  know  you  were  in  the 
house." 

"  Quite  impossible,  depend  upon  it,"  said  I.  "  Some  of 
the  servants  are  directly  in  his  interests,  perhaps  in  his 
pay  :  Dawson,  for  an  example." 

''  My  own  idea  !  "  cried  Romaine.  "  And  at  least,"  he 
added,  as  the  first  of  the  chaises  drew  up  with  a  dash  in 
front  of  the  portico,  "  it  is  now  too  late.     Here  he  is." 

We  stood  listening,  with  a  strange  anxiety,  to  the  vari- 
ous noises  that  awoke  in  the  silent  house  :  the  sound  of 
doors  opening  and  closing,  the  sound  of  feet  near  at  hand 
and  farther  off.  It  was  plain  the  arrival  of  my  cousin  was 
a  matter  of  moment,  almost  of  parade,  to  the  household. 
And  suddenly,  out  of  this  confused  and  distant  bustle,  a 
rapid  and  light  tread  became  distinguishable.  AVe  hcMrd 
it  come  upstairs,  draw  near  along  the  corridor,  pause  at  the 
door,  and  a  stealthy  and  hasty  rapping  succeeded. 

*^^Mr.  Anne — Mr.  Anne,  sir!  Let  me  in!"  said  the 
voice  of  Rowley. 

We  admitted  the  lad,  and  locked  the  door  again  behind 
him. 

*'  It's  him,  sir,"  he  panted.     "  He've  come." 

''  You  mean  the  Viscount  ?  "  said  I.    "  So  we  supposed. 
But  come,  Rowley — out  with  the  rest  of  it  !     You  have 
more  to  tell  us,  or  your  face  belies  you  ! " 
13 


194  ST.    IVES 

''  Mr.  Anne,  I  do/'  he  said.    "  Mr.  Romaine,  sir,  you're 
a  friend  of  his,  ain't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  George,  I  am  a  friend  of  his,"  said  Romaine, 
and,  to  my  great  surprise,  laid  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder. 
^'Well,  it's  this  way,"  said  Rowley— ''Mr.  Fowl  have 
been  at  me  !  It's  to  play  the  spy  !  I  thought  he  was  at 
it  from  the  first !  From  the  first  I  see  what  he  was 
after— coming  round  and  round,  and  hinting  things  I  But 
to-night  he  outs  with  it  plump  !  I'm  to  let  him  hear  all 
what  you're  to  do  beforehand,  he  says;  and  he  give  me 
this  for  an  arnest  "—holding  up  half  a  guinea;  "and  1 
took  it,  so  I  did  !  Strike  me  sky-blue  scarlet  ! "  says  he, 
adducing  the  words  of  the  nock  oath  ;  and  he  looked 
askance  at  me  as  he  did  so. 

I  saw  that  he  had  forgotten  himself,  and  that  he  knew 
it.  The  expression  of  his  eye  changed  almost  in  the  pass- 
ing of  the  glance  from  the  significant  to  the  appealing— 
from  the  look  of  an  accomplice  to  that  of  a  culprit ;  and 
from  that  moment  he  became  the  model  of  a  well-drilled 
valet. 

''  Sky-blue  scarlet  ?  "  repeated  the  lawyer.  ''  Is  the  fool 
delirious  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I  ;  "  he  is  only  reminding  me  of  some- 
thing." 

^^^Vell_and  I  believe  the  felloAV  will  be  faithful,"  said 
Romaine.  "  So  you  are  a  friend  of  Mr.  Anne's,  too  ?"  he 
added  to  Rowley. 

"  If  yon  please,  sir,"  said  Rowley. 

*"Tis  something  sudden,"  observed  Romaine;  "but  it 
may  be  genuine  enough.  I  believe  him  to  be  honest.  He 
comes  of  honest  people.  Well,  George  Rowley,  you  might 
embrace  some  early  opportunity  to  earn  that  half -guinea, 
by  telling  Mr.  Fowl  that  your  master  will  not  leave  here 
till  noon  to-morrow,  if  he  go  even  then.     Tell  him  there 


MR.    ROMAINE   CALLS   ME  NAMES  195 

are  a  hundred  things  to  be  done  here,  and  a  linndrod  more 
that  can  only  be  done  jn'operly  at  my  office  in  llolborn. 
Come  to  think  of  it — we  had  better  see  to  that  first  of  all," 
he  went  on,  unlocking  the  door.  "  Get  hold  of  Fowl,  and 
see.     And  be  quick  back,  and  clear  me  up  this  mess." 

Mr.  Rowley  Avas  no  sooner  gone  than  the  lawyer  took  a 
pinch  of  snuff,  and  regarded  me  with  somewhat  of  a  more 
genial  expression. 

''  Sir,"  said  he,  "  it  is  very  fortunate  for  you  that  your 
face  is  so  strong  a  letter  of  recommendation.  Here  am  I, 
a  tough  old  practitioner,  mixing  myself  up  with  your  very 
distressing  business  ;  and  here  is  this  farmer's  lad,  who  lias 
the  wit  to  take  a  bribe  and  the  loyalty  to  come  and  tell  you 
of  it — all,  I  take  it,  on  the  strength  of  your  appearance. 
I  wish  I  could  imagine  how  it  would  impress  a  jury  !  " 
says  he. 

^*  And  how  it  would  affect  the  hangman,  sir  ? ''  I  asked. 

"  Ahsit  07nen!"  said  Mr.  Romiine  devoutly. 

We  were  just  so  far  in  our  talk,  when  I  heard  a  sound 
that  brought  my  heart  into  my  mouth  :  the  sound  of  some 
one  slyly  trying  the  handle  of  the  door.  It  had  been  pre- 
ceded by  no  audible  footstep.  Since  the  departure  of  Row- 
ley our  wing  of  the  house  had  been  entirely  silent.  And 
we  had  every  right  to  suppose  ourselves  alone,  and  to  con- 
clude that  the  new-comer,  whoever  he  might  be,  was  come 
on  a  clandestine,  if  not  a  hostile,  errand. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  asked  Romaine. 

"  It's  only  me,  sir/'  said  the  soft  voice  of  Dawson.  "  It's 
the  Viscount,  sir.  He  is  very  desirous  to  speak  with  you 
on  business." 

''  Tell  him  I  shall  come  shortly,  Dawson,"  said  the  law- 
yer.    ^*^  I  am  at  present  engaged." 

"  Thank  you,  sir  ! "  said  Dawson. 

And  we  heard  his  feet  draw  off  slowly  along  the  corridor 


196  ST.    IVES 

^^  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Eomaine,  speaking  low,  and  maintain- 
ing the  attitude  of  one  intently  listening,  ^'  there  is  another 
foot.     I  cannot  be  deceived  !  " 

''  I  think  there  was  indeed  !  '*  said  I.  ^'  And  what 
troubles  me^I  am  not  sure  that  the  other  has  gone  en- 
tirely aAvay.  By  the  time  it  got  the  length  of  the  head  of 
the  stair  the  tread  was  plainly  single." 

'^  Ahem — blockaded  ?  "  asked  the  lawyer. 

''  A  siege  en  regie  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Let  us  come  farther  from  the  door,"  said  Romaine, 
"  and  reconsider  this  damnable  position.  Without  doubt, 
Alain  was  this  moment  at  the  door.  He  hoped  to  enter 
and  get  a  view  of  you,  as  if  by  accident.  Baffled  in  this, 
has  he  stayed  himself,  or  has  he  planted  Dawson  here  by 
way  of  sentinel  ?  " 

"  Himself,  beyond  a  doubt,"  said  I.  '^'^  And  3'et  to  what 
end  ?     He  cannot  think  to  pass  the  night  there  ! " 

^'^  If  it  were  only  possible  to  pay  no  heed  I "  said  Mr.  Ro- 
maine. *^  But  this  is  the  accursed  drawback  of  your  jDosi- 
tion.  We  can  do  nothing  openly.  I  must  smuggle  you 
out  of  this  room  and  out  of  tliis  house  like  seizable  goods  ; 
and  how  am  I  to  set  about  it  with  a  sentinel  planted  at 
your  very  door  ?" 

"  There  is  no  good  in  being  agitated,"  said  I. 

''  None  at  all,"  he  acquiesced.  ''  And,  come  to  think  of 
it,  it  is  droll  enough  that  I  should  have  been  that  very 
moment  commenting  on  your  personal  api^earance,  when 
your  cousin  came  upon  this  mission.  I  was  saying,  if  you 
remember,  that  your  face  was  as  good  or  better  than  a  let- 
ter of  recommendation.  I  wonder  if  M.  Alain  would  be 
like  the  rest  of  us — I  wonder  Avhat  he  would  think  of 
it?" 

^Ir.  Romaine  was  sitting  in  a  chair  by  the  fire  with  his 
back  to  the  windows,  and  I  was  myself  kneeling  on  the 


MK.    KOMAINE   CALLS   ME   NAMES  l'J7 

hearthrug  and  beginning  mechanically  to  pick  up  the  scat- 
tered bills,  when  a  honeyed  voice  Joined  suddenly  in  our 
conversation. 

''He  thinks  well  of  it,  Mr.  Romaine.  He  begs  to  join 
himself  to  that  circle  of  admirers  which  you  indicate  to  ex- 
ist already/' 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   DEVIL   AND    ALL   AT   AMERSHAM    PLACE 

Never  did  two  human  creatures  get  to  their  feet  with 
more  alacrity  than  the  lawyer  and  myself.  We  had  locked 
and  barred  the  main  gates  of  the  citadel ;  but  unhaj^pily 
we  had  left  open  the  bath-room  sally-port  ;  and  here  we 
found  the  voice  of  the  hostile  trumpets  sounding  from 
within,  and  all  our  defences  taken  in  reverse.  I  took  but 
the  time  to  whisper  Mr.  Romaine  in  the  ear  :  "  Here  is 
another  tableau  for  you  ! "  at  which  he  looked  at  me  a  mo- 
ment with  a  kind  of  pathos,  as  who  should  say,  ''  Don't 
hit  a  man  when  he's  down.^'  Then  I  transferred  my  eyes 
to  my  enemy. 

He  had  his  hat  on,  a  little  on  one  side  :  it  was  a  very  tall 
hat,  raked  extremely,  and  had  a  narrow  curling  brim.  His 
hair  was  all  curled  out  in  masses  like  an  Italian  mounte- 
bank— a  most  unpardonable  fashion.  He  sported  a  huge 
tippeted  overcoat  of  frieze,  such  as  watchmen  wear,  only 
the  inside  was  lined  with  costly  furs,  and  he  kept  it  half 
open  to  display  the  exquisite  linen,  the  many-coloured 
waistcoat,  and  the  profuse  jewellery  of  watch-chains  and 
brooches  underneath.  The  leg  and  the  ankle  were  turned 
to  a  miracle.  It  is  out  of  the  question  that  I  should  deny 
the  resemblance  altogether,  since  it  has  been  remarked  by 
so  many  different  persons  whom  I  cannot  reasonably  ac- 
cuse of  a  conspiracy.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  saw  little  of 
it  and  confessed  to  nothing.     Certainly  he  was  what  some 

198 


DEVIL   AND    ALL   AT   AMERSHAM   PLACE  J  1)1) 

might  call  handsome^  of  a  joictorial,  exuberant  style  of 
beauty,  all  attitude,  profile,  and  impudence  :  a  man  wliom 
I  could  see  in  fancy  parade  on  the  grand  stand  at  a  race- 
meeting,  or  swagger  in  Piccadilly,  staring  down  the  women, 
and  stared  at  himself  with  admiration  by  the  coal-porters. 
Of  his  frame  of  mind  at  that  moment  his  lace  offered  a 
lively  if  an  unconscious  picture.  He  was  lividly  pale,  and 
his  lip  was  caught  up  in  a  smile  that  could  almost  be  called 
a  snarl,  of  a  sheer,  arid  malignity  that  appalled  me  and 
yet  put  me  on  my  mettle  for  the  encounter,  lie  looked 
me  up  and  down,  then  bowed  and  took  off  his  hat  to  me. 

^'  My  cousin,  I  presume  ?"  he  said. 

"  I  understand  I  have  that  honour,"  I  replied. 

'^  The  honour  is  -mine,"  said  he,  and  his  voice  shook  as 
he  said  it. 

^^I  should  make  you  welcome,  I  believe,"  said  I. 

''  Why  ?  "  he  inquired.  ''  This  poor  house  has  been  my 
home  for  longer  than  I  care  to  claim.  That  you  should 
already  take  upon  yourself  the  duties  of  liost  here  is  to 
be  at  unnecessary  pains.  Believe  me,  that  part  would  be 
more  becomingly  mine.  And,  by  the  way,  I  must  not 
fail  to  offer  you  my  little  compliment.  It  is  a  gratifying 
surprise  to  meet  you  in  the  dress  of  a  gentleman,  and 
to  see"— with  a  circular  look  upon  the  scattered  bills— 
'^hat  your  necessities  have  already  been  so  liberally  re- 
lieved." 

I  bowed  with  a  smile  that  was  perhaps  no  less  hateful 
than  his  own. 

''  There  are  so  many  necessities  in  this  world,"  said  I. 
'^  Charity  has  to  choose.  One  gets  relieved,  and  some 
other,  no  less  indigent,  perhaps  indebted,  must  go  want- 
ing." 

''  Malice  is  an  engaging  trait,"  said  he. 

''  And  envy,  I  think  ?"  was  my  reply. 


200  ST.   IVES 

He  must  have  felt  that  he  was  not  getting  wholly  the 
better  of  this  passage  at  arms  ;  perhaps  even  feared  that 
he  should  lose  command  of  his  temper,  which  he  reined  in 
throughout  the  interview  as  with  a  red-hot  curb,  for  he 
flung  away  from  me  at  tlie  word,  and  addressed  the  law- 
yer with  insulting  arrogance. 

*'Mr.  Romaine,"  he  said,  ''since  when  have  you  pre- 
sumed to  give  orders  in  this  house  ?  ^^ 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  admit  that  I  have  given  any," 
replied  Romaine ;  '^  certainly  none  that  did  not  fall  in  the 
sphere  of  my  responsibilities." 

''  By  whose  orders,  then,  am  I  denied  entrance  to  my 
uncle's  room  ?  "  said  my  cousin. 

''  By  the  doctor^  sir,"  replied  Romaijie  ;  "  and  I  think 
even  you  will  admit  his  faculty  to  give  them." 

"  Have  a  care,  sir,"  cried  Alain.  ''  Do  not  be  puffed 
up  with  your  position.  It  is  none  so  secure.  Master  At- 
torney. I  should  not  wonder  in  the  least  if  you  were 
struck  off  the  rolls  for  this  night's  work,  and  the  next 
I  should  see  of  you  were  when  I  flung  you  alms  at  a 
pothouse  door  to  mend  your  ragged  elbows.  The  doctor's 
orders  ?  But  I  believe  I  am  not  mistaken  !  You  have 
to-night  transacted  business  with  the  Count  ;  and  this 
needy  young  gentleman  has  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  still 
another  interview,  in  which  (as  I  am  pleased  to  see)  his 
dignity  has  not  prevented  his  doing  very  well  for  himself. 
I  wonder  that  you  should  care  to  prevaricate  with  me  so 
idly." 

"  I  will  confess  so  much,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  ''  if  you 
call  it  prevarication.  The  order  in  question  emanated 
from  the  Count  himself.     He  does  not  wish  to  see  you." 

"  For  which  I  must  take  the  word  of  Mr.  Daniel  Ro- 
maine ?  "  asked  Alain. 

"  In  default  of  any  better,"  said  Romaine. 


DEVIL   AND   ALL   AT    AMERSIIAM   PLACK  201 

There  was  an  instantaneous  convulsion  in  my  cousin's 
face,  and  I  distinctly  heard  him  gnash  his  teeth  at  tliis 
reply  ;  but,  to  my  surprise,  he  resumed  in  tones  oi'  ahnost 
good  humour  : 

"Come,  Mr.  Romaine,  do  not  let  us  be  petty!"  \\v 
drew  in  a  chair  and  sat  down.  "  Understand  you  have 
stolen  a  march  upon  me.  You  have  introduced  your  sol- 
dier of  Napoleon,  and  (how,  I  cannot  conceive)  he  has 
been  apparently  accepted  with  favour.  I  ask  no  better 
proof  than  the  funds  with  which  I  find  him  literally  sur- 
rounded— I  presume  in  consequence  of  some  extravagance 
of  joy  at  the  first  sight  of  so  much  money.  The  odds  ai'e 
so  far  in  your  favour,  but  the  match  is  not  yet  won. 
Questions  will  arise  of  undue  influence,  of  sequestration, 
and  the  like  :  I  have  my  witnesses  ready.  I  tell  it  you 
cynically,  for  yon  cannot  profit  by  the  knowledge  ;  and,  if 
the  worst  come  to  the  worst,  I  have  good  hopes  of  recover- 
ing my  own  and  of  ruining  you." 

"You  do  what  you  please,"  answered  Romaine;  "but 
I  give  it  you  for  a  piece  of  good  advice,  you  had  best  do 
nothing  in  the  matter.  You  will  only  make  yourself  ri- 
diculous ;  you  will  only  squander  money,  of  which  you 
have  none  too  much,  and  reap  public  mortification." 

"Ah,  but  there  you  make  the  common  mistake,  Mr. 
Romaine!"  returned  Alain.  "You  despise  your  adver- 
sary. Consider,  if  you  please,  how  very  disagreeable  1 
could  make  myself,  if  I  chose.  Consider  the  position  of 
your  protege — an  escaped  prisoner  !  But  I  play  a  great 
game.     I  contemn  such  petty  opportunities." 

At  this  Romaine  and  I  exchanged  a  glance  of  triumph. 
It  seemed  manifest  that  Alain  had  as  yet  received  no  word 
of  Clausel's  recapture  and  denunciation.  At  the  same 
moment  the  lawyer,  thus  relieved  of  tlie  instancy  of  his 
fear,  changed  his  tactics.     AVith  a  great  air  of  uncoiieern. 


202  ST.    IVES 

he  secured  tlie  newspaper,  which  still  lay  open  before  him 
on  the  table. 

"  I  think.  Monsieur  Alain,  that  you  labour  under  some 
illusion,"  said  he.  "  Believe  me,  this  is  all  beside  the 
mark.  You  seem  to  be  pointing  to  some  compromise. 
Nothing  is  further  from  my  views.  You  suspect  me  of 
an  inclination  to  trifle  with  you,  to  conceal  how  things  are 
going.  I  cannot,  on  the  other  hand,  be  too  early  or  too 
explicit  in  giving  you  information  which  concerns  you  (I 
must  say)  capitally.  Your  great-uncle  has  to-night  can- 
celled his  will,  and  made  a  new  one  in  favour  of  your 
cousin  Anne.  Nay,  and  you  shall  hear  it  from  his  own 
lips,  if  you  choose  !  I  will  take  so  much  upon  me,'"  said 
the  lawyer,  rising.   "  Fo11oa\-  me,  if  you  please,  gentlemen.'' 

Mr.  Romaine  led  the  way  out  of  the  room  so  briskly, 
and  was  so  briskly  followed  by  Alain,  that  I  had  hard  ado 
to  get  the  remainder  of  the  money  replaced  and  the  de- 
spatch-box locked,  and  to  overtake  them,  even  by  run- 
ning, ere  they  should  be  lost  in  that  maze  of  corridors,  my 
uncle's  house.  As  it  was,  I  went  with  a  heart  divided  ; 
and  the  thought  of  my  treasure  thus  left  unprotected, 
save  by  a  paltry  lid  and  lock  that  any  one  might  break  or 
pick  open,  put  me  in  a  perspiration  whenever  I  had  the 
time  to  remember  it.  The  lawyer  brought  us  to  a  room, 
begged  us  to  be  seated  while  he  should  hold  a  consultation 
with  the  doctor,  and,  slipping  out  of  another  door,  left 
Alain  and  myself  closeted  together. 

Truly  he  had  done  nothing  to  ingratiate  himself  ;  his 
every  word  had  been  steeped  in  unfriendliness,  envy,  and 
that  contempt  which  (as  it  is  born  of  anger)  it  is  possible 
to  support  without  humiliation.  On  my  part,  I  had  been 
little  more  conciliating  ;  and  yet  I  began  to  be  sorry  for 
this  man,  hired  spy  as  I  knew  him  to  be.  It  seemed  to 
me  less  than  decent  that  he  should  have  been  brought  up 


DEVIL   AND    ALL   AT   AMERSHAM   PLACE  203 

in  the  expectation  of  this  great  inheritance,  and  now,  at 
the  eleventh  hour,  be  tumbled  forth  out  of  the  house  door 
and  left  to  himself,  his  poverty  and  his  debts — those  debts 
of  which  I  had  so  ungallantly  reminded  him  so  short  a 
time  before.  And  we  were  scarce  left  alone  ere  I  made 
haste  to  hang  out  a  flag  of  truce. 

''My  cousin,"  said  I,  ''  trust  me,  you  will  not  find  me 
inclined  to  be  your  enemy." 

He  paused  in  front  of  me — for  he  had  not  accepted  the 
lawyer^s  invitation  to  be  seated,  but  walked  to  and  fro  in 
the  apartment — took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  looked  at  me 
while  he  was  taking  it  with  an  air  of  much  curiosity. 

"  Is  it  even  so  ?  "  said  he.  **  Am  I  so  far  favoured  by 
fortune  as  to  have  your  pity  ?  Infinitely  obliged,  my 
cousin  iVnne  !  But  these  sentiments  are  not  always  re- 
ciprocal, and  I  warn  you  that  the  day  when  I  set  my  foot 
on  your  neck,  the  spine  shall  break.  Are  you  acquainted 
with  the  properties  of  the  spine  ?  "  he  asked,  with  an  in-> 
science  beyond  qualification. 

It  was  too  much.  "  I  am  acquainted  also  with  theprop- 
erties  of  a  pair  of  pistols,"  said  I,  toising  him. 

''  No,  no,  no  !"  says  he,  holding  up  his  finger.  "  I  will 
take  my  revenge  how  and  when  I  please.  We  are  enough 
of  the  same  family  to  understand  each  other,  perhaps ;  and 
the  reason  why  I  have  not  had  you  arrested  on  your  arri- 
val, why  I  had  not  a  picket  of  soldiers  in  the  first  clump 
of  evergreens,  to  await  and  prevent  your  coming — I,  who 
knew  all,  before  whom  that  pettifogger,  Romaine,  has  been 
conspiring  in  broad  daylight  to  supplant  me — is  simply 
this  :  that  I  had  not  made  up  my  mind  how  I  was  to  take 
my  revenge." 

At  that  moment  he  was  interrupted  by  the  tolling  of  a 
bell.  As  we  stood  surprised  and  listening,  it  was  succeeded 
by  tne  sound  pf  many  feet  ti'QPping  up  the  stairs  aad,  shut- 


204  ST.   IVES 

fling  by  the  door  of  our  room.  Both,  I  believe,  had  a 
great  curiosity  to  set  it  open,  which  each,  owing  to  the 
presence  of  the  other,  resisted  ;  and  we  waited  instead  in 
silence,  and  without  moving,  until  Romaine  returned  and 
bade  us  to  my  uncle's  presence. 

He  led  the  way  by  a  little  crooked  passage,  which  brought 
us  out  in  the  sick-room,  and  behind  the  bed.  I  believe  I 
have  forgotten  to  remark  that  the  Count's  chamber  was  of 
considerable  dimensions.  We  beheld  it  now  crowded  with 
the  servants  and  depeiidants  of  the  house,  from  the  doctor 
and  the  priest  to  Mr.  Dawson  and  the  housekeeper,  from 
Dawson  down  to  Rowley  and  the  last  footman  in  white 
calves,  the  last  plump  chambermaid  in  her  clean  gown  and 
cap,  and  the  last  ostler  in  a  stable  waistcoat.  This  large 
congregation  of  persons  (and  I  was  surprised  to  see  how 
large  it  was)  had  the  appearance,  for  the  most  part,  of  be- 
ing ill  at  ease  and  heartily  bewildered,  standing  on  one 
foot,  gaping  like  zanies,  and  those  who  were  in  the  corners 
nudging  each  other  and  grinning  aside.  My  uncle,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  was  raised  higher  than  I  had  yet  seen  him 
on  his  pillows,  wore  an  air  of  really  imposing  gravity.  No 
sooner  had  we  appeared  behind  him,  than  he  lifted  his 
voice  to  a  good  loudness,  and  addressed  the  assemblage. 

"  I  take  you  all  to  witness — can  you  hear  me  ? — I  take 
you  all  to  witness  that  I  recognise  as  my  heir  and  repre- 
sentative this  gentleman,  whom  most  of  jou  see  for  the 
first  time,  the  Viscount  Anne  de  St. -Yves,  my  nephew  of 
the  younger  line.  And  I  take  you  to  witness  at  the  same 
time  that,  for  very  good  reasons  known  to  myself,  I  have 
discarded  and  disinherited  this  other  gentleman  whom  you 
all  know,  the  A'iscount  de  St. -Yves.  I  have  also  to  ex- 
plain the  unusual  trouble  to  which  I  have  put  you  all — 
and,  since  your  supper  was  not  over,  I  fear  I  may  even  say 
annoyance.     It  has  j^leased  M.  Alain  to  make  some  threats 


DEVIL   AND   ALL   AT  AMERSIIAM   PLACE         205 

of  disputing  my  will,  and  to  pretend  tliat  there  are  among 
your  number  certain  estimable  persons  who  may  be  trusted 
to  swear  as  he  shall  direct  them.  It  pleases  me  thus  to 
put  it  out  of  his  power  and  to  stop  the  mouths  of  his  false 
witnesses.  I  am  infinitely  obliged  by  your  politeness,  and 
I  have  the  honour  to  wish  you  all  a  very  good  evening." 

As  the  servants,  still  greatly  mystified,  crowded  out  of 
the  sick-room  door,  curtseying,  pulling  the  forelock,  scrap- 
ing with  the  foot,  and  so  on,  according  to  their  degree,  I 
turned  and  stole  a  look  at  my  cousin.  He  had  borne  this 
crushing  public  rebuke  without  change  of  countenance. 
He  stood,  now,  very  upright,  with  folded  arms,  and  look- 
ing inscrutably  at  the  roof  of  the  apartment.  I  could 
not  refuse  him  at  that  moment  the  tribute  of  my  admira- 
tion. Still  more  so  when,  the  last  of  the  domestics  hav- 
ing filed  through  the  doorway  and  left  us  alone  with  my 
great- uncle  and  the  lawyer,  he  took  one  step  forward  tow- 
ards the  bed,  made  a  dignified  reverence,  and  addressed 
the  man  who  had  just  condemned  him  to  ruin. 

'*^My  lord,"  said  he,  ^'^you  are  pleased  to  treat  me  in  a 
manner  which  my  gratitude,  and  your  state,  equally  forbid 
me  to  call  in  question.  It  will  be  only  necessary  for  me 
to  call  your  attention  to  the  length  of  time  in  which  I 
have  been  taught  to  regard  myself  as  your  heir.  In  that 
position,  I  judged  it  only  loyal  to  permit  myself  a  certain 
scale  of  expenditure.  If  I  am  now  to  be  cut  off  with  a 
shilling  as  the  reward  of  twenty  years  of  service,  I  shall  be 
left  not  only  a  beggar,  but  a  bankrupt." 

Whether  from  the  fatigue  of  his  recent  exertion,  or  by 
a  well-inspired  ingenuity  of  hate,  my  uncle  had  once  more 
closed  his  eyes  ;  nor  did  he  open  them  now.  '^  Not  with 
a  shilling,"  he  contented  himself  with  replying  ,  and  there 
stole,  as  he  said  it,  a  sort  of  smile  over  his  face,  that  flick- 
ered there  conspicuously  for  the  least  moment  of  time,  and 


206  ST.   IVES 

then  faded  and  left  behind  tlie  old  impenetrable  mask  of 
years,  cunning,  and  fatigue.  There  could  be  no  mistake  : 
my  uncle  enjoyed  the  situation  as  he  had  enjoyed  few 
things  in  the  last  quarter  of  a  century.  The  fires  of  life 
scarce  survived  in  that  frail  body  ;  but  hatred,  like  some 
immortal  quality,  was  still  erect  and  unabated. 

Nevertheless  my  cousin  persevered. 

"  I  speak  at  a  disadvantage,"  he  resumed.  ^'  My  sup- 
planter,  with  perhaps  more  wisdom  than  delicacy,  remains 
in  the  room,"  and  he  cast  a  glance  at  me  that  might  have 
withered  an  oak  tree. 

I  was  only  too  willing  to  withdraw,  and  Romaine  showed 
as  much  alacrity  to  make  way  for  my  departure.  But  my 
uncle  was  not  to  be  moved.  In  the  same  breath  of  a  voice, 
and  still  without  opening  his  eyes,  he  bade  me  remain. 

''  It  is  well,"  said  Alain.  "  I  cannot  then  go  on  to  remind 
you  of  the  twenty  years  that  have  passed  over  our  heads 
in  England,  and  the  services  I  may  have  rendered  you  in 
that  time.  It  would  be  a  position  too  odious.  Your  lord- 
sliip  knows  me  too  well  to  suppose  I  could  stoop  to  such 
ignominy.  I  must  leave  out  all  my  defence — your  lordship 
wills  it  so  !  I  do  not  know  what  are  my  faults  ;  I  know 
only  my  punishment,  and  it  is  greater  than  I  have  the 
courage  to  face.  My  uncle,  I  implore  your  pity  :  pardon 
me  so  far  ;  do  not  send  me  for  life  into  a  debtors'  jail — a 
pauper  debtor." 

"  Chat  et  vieux,  pardonnez  9  "  said  my  uncle,  quoting 
from  La  Fontaine  ;  and  then,  opening  a  pale-blue  eye  full 
on  Alain,  he  delivered  with  some  emphasis  : 

"  La  jeunesse  se  flatte  et  croit  tout  obtenir; 
La  vieillesse  est  impitoyable." 

The  blood  leaped  darkly  into  Alain's  face.  He  turned 
to  Romaine  and  me,  and  his  eyes  flashed. 


DEVIL   AND   ALL   AT   AMERSHAM   PLACE         207 

''It  is  your  turn  now/'  he  said.  ''At  least  it  shall  be 
prison  for  prison  with  the  two  viscounts." 

"  Not  so,  Mr.  Alain,  by  your  leave,"  said  Eomaine. 
"  There  are  a  few  formalities  to  be  considered  first." 

But  Alain  was  already  striding  towards  the  door. 

"Stop  a  moment,  stop  a  moment  !"  cried  Romaine. 
"  Remember  your  own  counsel  not  to  despise  an  adversary." 

Alain  turned. 

"  If  I  do  not  despise  I  hate  you  ! "  he  cried,  giving  a 
loose  to  his  passion.     "  Be  warned  of  that,  both  of  you." 

"  I  understand  you  to  threaten  Monsieur  le  Vicomte 
Anne,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  Do  you  know,  I  would  not  do 
that.  I  am  afraid,  I  am  very  much  afraid,  if  you  were 
to  do  as  you  propose,  you  might  drive  me  into  extremes." 

"  You  have  made  me  a  beggar  and  a  bankrupt,"  said 
Alain.     "  What  extreme  is  left  ?  " 

"  I  scarce  like  to  put  a  name  upon  it  in  this  company," 
replied  Romaine.  "  But  there  are  worse  things  than  even 
bankruptcy,  and  worse  places  than  a  debtors'  j^^^-'' 

The  words  were  so  significantly  said  that  there  went  a 
visible  thrill  through  Alain  ;  sudden  as  a  swordstroke,  he 
fell  pale  again. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  he. 

"0  yes,  you  do,"  returned  Romaine.  "I  believe  you 
understand  me  very  well.  You  must  not  suppose  that  all 
this  time,  while  you  were  so  very  busy,  others  were  en- 
tirely idle.  You  must  not  fancy,  because  I  am  an  Eng- 
lishman, that  I  have  not  the  intelligence  to  pursue  an  in- 
quiry. Great  as  is  my  regard  for  the  honour  of  your 
house,  M.  Alain  de  St.-Yves,  if  I  hear  of  you  moving 
directly  or  indirectly  in  this  matter,  I  shall  do  my  duty, 
let  it  cost  what  it  will  :  that  is,  I  shall  communicate  the 
real  name  of  the  Buonapartist  spy  who  signs  his  letters 
Mue  Gregoire  de  Tours." 


208  ST.   IVES 

I  confess  my  heart  was  already  almost  altogether  on  the 
side  of  my  insulted  and  unhappy  cousin  ;  and  if  it  had  not 
been  before,  it  must  have  been  so  now,  so  horrid  was  the 
shock  with  which  he  heard  his  infamy  exposed.  Speech 
was  denied  him  ;  he  carried  his  hand  to  his  neckcloth  ;  he 
staggered  ;  I  thought  he  must  have  fallen.  I  ran  to  help 
him,  and  at  that  he  revived,  recoiled  before  me,  and  stood 
there  with  arms  stretched  forth  as  if  to  preserve  himself 
from  the  outrage  of  my  touch. 

"  Hands  off  !  "  he  somehow  managed  to  articulate. 

"  You  will  now,  I  hope,"  pursued  the  lawyer,  without 
any  change  of  voice,  ^^  understand  the  position  in  which 
you  are  placed,  and  how  delicately  it  behoves  you  to  con- 
duct yourself.  Your  arrest  hangs,  if  I  may  so  express  my- 
self, by  a  hair ;  and  as  you  will  be  under  the  perpetual 
vigilance  of  myself  and  my  agents,  you  must  look  to  it 
narrowly  that  you  walk  straight.  Upon  the  least  dubiety, 
I  will  take  action."  He  snuffed,  looking  critically  at  the 
tortured  man.  ''And  now  let  me  remind  you  that  your 
chaise  is  at  the  door.  This  interview  is  agitating  to  his 
lordship— it  cannot  be  agreeable  for  you— and  I  suggest 
that  it  need  not  be  further  drawn  out.  It  does  not  enter 
into  the  views  of  your  uncle,  the  Count,  that  you  should 
again  sleep  under  this  roof." 

As  Alain  turned  and  passed  without  a  word  or  a  sign 
from  the  apartment,  I  instantly  folloAved.  I  suppose  I 
must  be  at  bottom  possessed  of  some  humanity  ;  at  least, 
this  accumulated  torture,  this  slow  butchery  of  a  man  as 
by  quarters  of  rock,  had  wholly  changed  my  sympathies. 
At  tluit  moment  I  loathed  both  my  uncle  and  tlie  lawyer 
for  their  cold-blooded  cruelty. 

Leaning  over  the  banisters,  I  was  but  in  time  to  hear 
his  hasty  footsteps  in  that  hall  that  had  been  crowded  with 
servants  to  honour  his  coming,  and  was  now  left  empty 


DEVIL   AND   ALL   AT   AMERSHAM    PLACE         2U9 

against  his  friendless  departure.  A  moment  later,  and  the 
echoes  rang  and  the  air  whistled  in  my  ears,  as  he  slammed 
the  door  on  his  departing  footsteps.  The  fury  of  the  con- 
cussion gave  me  (had  one  been  still  wanted)  a  measure  of 
the  turmoil  of  his  passions.  In  a  sense,  I  felt  with  him ; 
I  felt  how  he  would  have  gloried  to  slam  that  door  on  my 
uncle,  the  lawyer,  myself,  and  the  whole  crowd  of  those 
who  had  been  witnesses  to  his  humiliation. 

14 


CHAPTER  XX 

AFTER    THE    STORM 

No  sooner  was  the  house  clear  of  my  cousin,  than  I  be- 
gan to  reckon  up,  ruefully  enough,  the  probable  results  of 
what  had  passed.  Here  were  a  number  of  pots  broken, 
and  it  looked  to  me  as  if  I  should  have  to  pay  for  all  ! 
Here  had  been  this  proud,  mad  beast  goaded  and  baited 
both  publicly  and  privately,  till  he  could  neither  hear  nor 
see  nor  reason  ;  whereupon  the  gate  had  been  set  open,  and 
he  had  been  left  free  to  go  and  contrive  whatever  ven- 
geance he  might  find  possible.  I  could  not  help  thinking 
it  was  a  pity  that,  whenever  I  myself  was  inclined  to  be 
upon  my  good  behaviour,  some  friends  of  mine  should 
always  determine  to  play  a  piece  of  heroics  and  cast  me  for 
the  hero — or  the  victim — which  is  very  much  the  same. 
The  first  duty  of  heroics  is  to  be  of  your  own  choosing. 
When  they  are  not  that,  they  are  nothing.  And  I  assure 
you,  as  I  walked  back  to  my  own  room,  I  was  in  no  very 
complaisant  humour  :  thought  my  uncle  and  Mr.  Ro- 
maine  to  have  played  knuckle-bones  with  my  life  and 
prospects  ;  cursed  them  for  it  roundly  ;  had  no  wish  more 
urgent  than  to  avoid  the  pair  of  them  ;  and  was  quite 
knocked  out  of  time,  as  they  say  in  the  ring,  to  find  myself 
confronted  with  the  lawyer. 

He  stood  on  my  hearthrug,  leaning  on  the  chimney- 
piece,  with  a  gloomy,  thoughtful  brow,  as  I  was  pleased  to 
see,  and  not  in  the  least  as  though  he  were  vain  of  the  late 
proceedings. 

210 


AFTER  THE   STORM  211 

''  Well  ?"  said  I.     ''  You  have  done  it,  now  ! " 

''  Is  he  gone  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  He  is  gone/^  said  I.  ^'  We  shall  have  the  devil  to  pay 
with  him  when  he  comes  back/^ 

^^^  You  are  right/^  said  the  lawyer,  '^and  very  little  to 
pay  him  with  but  flams  and  fabrications,  like  to-night's." 

''  To-night's  V  I  repeated. 

^'  Ay,  to-night's  ! "  said  he. 

"  To-night's  what  f"  I  cried. 

'^  To-night's  flams  and  fabrications." 

^'  God  be  good  to  me,  sir,"  said  I,  '^  have  I  something 
more  to  admire  in  your  conduct  than  ever  /  had  sus- 
pected ?  You  cannot  think  how  you  interest  me  !  That 
it  was  severe,  I  knew  ;  I  had  already  chuckled  over  that. 
But  that  it  should  be  false  also  .  In  what  sense,  dear 
sir  ?  " 

I  believe  I  was  extremely  offensive  as  I  put  the  question, 
but  the  lawyer  paid  no  heed. 

''  False  in  all  senses  of  the  word,"  he  replied,  seriously. 
*^  False  in  the  sense  that  they  were  not  true,  and  false  in 
the  sense  that  they  were  not  real  ;  false  in  the  sense  that  I 
boasted,  and  in  the  sense  that  I  lied.  How  can  I  arrest 
him  ?  Your  uncle  burned  the  papers  !  I  told  you  so — but 
doubtless  you  have  forgotten — the  day  I  first  saw  you  in 
Edinburgh  Castle.  It  was  an  act  of  generosity  ;  I  have 
seen  many  of  these  acts,  and  always  regretted — always  re- 
gretted !  '  That  shall  be  his  inheritance,'  he  said,  as  the 
paj^ers  burned  ;  he  did  not  mean  that  it  should  have 
proved  so  rich  a  one.     How  rich,  time  will  tell." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  a  hundred  thousand  times,  my  dear 
sir,  but  it  strikes  me  you  have  the  impudence — in  the  cir- 
cumstances, I  may  call  it  the  indecency — to  appear  cast 
down  ?  " 

''  It  is  true,"  said  he  :  "  I  am.     I  am  cast  down.     I  am 


212  ST.   IVES 

literally  cast  down.     I  feel  myself  quite  helpless  against 
your  cousin." 

''  Now,  really  ! ''  I  asked.  "  Is  this  serious  ?  And  is  it 
perhaps  the  reason  why  you  have  gorged  the  poor  devil 
Avith  every  species  of  insult  ?  and  why  you  took  such  sur- 
prising pains  to  supply  me  with  what  I  had  so  little  need 
of — another  enemy  ?  That  you  were  helpless  against  him? 
'  Here  is  my  last  missile/  say  you  ;  '  my  ammunition  is 
quite  exhausted  :  Just  wait  till  I  get  the  last  in— it  will 
irritate,  it  cannot  hurt  him.  There — you  see  ! — he  is  furi- 
ous now,  and  I  am  quite  helpless:  One  more  prod,  an- 
other kick  :  now  he  is  a  mere  lunatic  !  Stand  behind  me  ; 
I  am  quite  helpless  ! '  Mr.  Komaine,  I  am  asking  myself 
as  to  the  background  or  motive  of  this  singular  jest,  and 
whether  the  name  of  it  should  not  be  called  treachery  ?'' 

''  I  can  scarce  wonder,''  said  he.  "  In  truth  it  has  been 
a  singular  business,  and  we  are  very  fortunate  to  be  out  of 
it  so  well.  Yet  it  was  not  treachery  :  no,  no,  Mr.  Anne, 
it  was  not  treachery  ;  and  if  you  will  do  me  the  favour  to 
listen  to  me  for  the  inside  of  a  minute,  I  shall  demonstrate 
the  same  to  you  beyond  cavil."  He  seemed  to  wake  up  to 
his  ordinary  briskness.  ''  You  see  the  point  ?"  he  began. 
''  He  had  not  yet  read  the  newspaper,  but  who  could  tell 
when  he  might  ?  He  might  have  had  that  damned  jour- 
nal in  his  pocket,  and  how  should  we  know  ?  We  were — 
I  may  say,  we  are— at  the  mercy  of  the  merest  twopenny 
accident." 

''  Why,  true,"  said  I  :  '^  I  had  not  thought  of  that." 
''  I  warrant  you,"  cried  Romaine,  ''  you  had  supposed  it 
was  nothing  to  be  the  hero  of  an  interesting  notice  in  the 
journals  !  You  had  supposed,  as  like  as  not,  it  was  a  form 
of  secrecy  !  But  not  so  in  the  least.  A  part  of  England 
is  already  buzzing  with  the  name  of  Champdivers  ;  a  day 
or  two  more  and  the  mail  will  have  carried  it  everywhere  • 


AFTER  THE   STORK  213 

SO  wonderful  a  machine  is  this  of  ours  for  disseminating 
intelligence  !     Think  of  it !     When  my  father  was  born 

but  that  is  another  story.     To  return  :  we  had  here 

the  elements  of  such  a  combustion  as  I  dread  to  think  of 
— your  cousin  and  the  journal.  Let  him  but  glance  an 
eye  upon  that  column  of  print,  and  where  were  we  ?  It  is 
easy  to  ask  ;  not  so  easy  to  answer,  my  young  friend. 
And  let  me  tell  you,  this  sheet  is  the  Viscount's  usual 
reading.     It  is  my  conviction  he  had  it  in  his  pocket." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  I.  "  I  have  been  unjust. 
I  did  not  appreciate  my  danger." 

'^  I  think  you  never  do,"  said  he. 

''  But  yet  surely  that  public  scene "  I  began. 

"  It  was  madness.  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  Mr.  Ro- 
maine  interrupted.  "  But  it  was  your  uncle's  orders,  Mr. 
Anne,  and  what  could  I  do  ?  Tell  him  you  were  the  mur- 
derer of  Goguelat  ?     I  think  not." 

^^No,  sure  !"  said  I.  "That  would  but  have  been  to 
make  the  trouble  thicker.  We  were  certainly  in  a  very  ill 
posture." 

"  You  do  not  yet  appreciate  how  grave  it  was,"  he  re- 
plied. "  It  was  necessary  for  you  that  your  cousin  should 
go,  and  go  at  once.  You  yourself  had  to  leave  to-night 
under  cover  of  darkness,  and  how  could  you  have  done  that 
with  the  Viscount  in  the  next  room  ?  He  must  go,  then  ; 
he  must  leave  without  delay.  And  that  was  the  diffi- 
culty." 

'' Pardon  me,  Mr.  Romaine,  but  could  not  my  uncle 
have  bidden  him  go  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Why,  I  see  I  must  tell  you  that  this  is  not  so  simple 
as  it  sounds,"  he  replied.  "You  say  this  is  your  uncle's 
house,  and  so  it  is.  But  to  all  effects  and  purposes  it  is 
your  cousin's  also.  He  has  rooms  here ;  has  had  them 
coming  on  for  thirty  years  now,  and  they  are  filled  with  a 


214  ST.   IVES 

prodigious  accumulation  of  trash — stays,  I  daresay,  and 
powder-puffs,  and  such  eifeminate  idiocy — to  which  none 
could  disjiute  his  title,  even  supj^ose  any  one  wanted  to. 
AVe  had  a  perfect  right  to  bid  him  go,  and  he  had  a  per- 
fect right  to  reply,  '  Yes,  I  will  go,  but  not  without  my 
stays  and  cravats.  I  must  first  get  together  the  nine-hun- 
dred-and-ninety-nine  chestsfull  of  insufferable  rubbish, 
that  I  have  spent  the  last  thirty  years  collecting — and  may 
very  well  spend  the  next  thirty  hours  a-packing  of.^  And 
what  should  we  have  said  to  that  P^" 

*^By  way  of  repartee  ?^^  I  asked.  *^Two  tall  footmen 
and  a  pair  of  crabtree  cudgels,  I  suggest." 

"The  lord  deliver  me  from  the  wisdom  of  laymen  I" 
cried  Romaine.  ^^Put  myself  in  the  wrong  at  the  begin- 
ning of  a  law-suit  ?  No,  indeed  !  There  was  but  one 
thing  to  do,  and  I  did  it,  and  burned  my  last  cartridge  in 
the  doing  of  it.  I  stunned  him.  And  it  gave  us  three 
hours,  by  which  we  should  make  haste  to  profit ;  for  if 
there  is  one  thing  sure,  it  is  that  he  will  be  up  to  time  again 
to-morrow  in  the  morning." 

''Well,"  said  I,  ''I  own  myself  an  idiot.  Well  do  they 
say,  an  old  soldier^  an  old  innooent !  For  I  guessed  noth- 
ing of  all  this." 

''  And,  guessing  it,  have  you  the  same  objections  to  leave 
England  ?  "  he  inquired. 

''The  same,"  said  I. 

"  It  is  indispensable,"  he  objected. 

"  And  it  cannot  be,"  I  rejolied.  "Reason  has  nothing 
to  say  in  the  matter  ;  and  I  must  not  let  you  squander  any 
of  yours.  It  will  be  enough  to  tell  you  this  is  an  affair  of 
the  heart." 

"Is  it  even  so  ?"  quoth  Romaine,  nodding  his  head. 
"  And  I  might  have  been  sure  of  it.  Place  them  in  a  hos- 
pital, put  them  in  a  jail  in  yellow  overalls,  do  what  you 


Al^TER  THE  STORM  215 

will,  young  Jessamy  finds  young  Jenny.  0,  have  it  your 
own  way ;  I  am  too  old  a  hand  to  argue  with  young  gentle- 
men who  choose  to  fancy  themselves  in  love  ;  I  have  too 
much  experience,  thank  you.  Only,  be  sure  that  you  appre- 
ciate what  you  risk  :  the  prison,  the  dock,  the  gallows,  and 
the  halter — terribly  vulgar  circumstances,  my  young  friend  ; 
grim,  sordid,  earnest ;  no  poetry  in  that !  " 

'^  And  there  I  am  warned, ^^  I  returned  gaily.  ''  No  man 
could  be  warned  more  finely  or  with  a  greater  eloquence. 
And  .1  am  of  the  same  opinion  still.  Until  I  have  again 
seen  that  lady,  nothing  shall  induce  me  to  quit  Great 
Britain.     I  have  besides '' 

And  here  I  came  to  a  full  stop.  It  was  upon  my  tongue 
to  have  told  him  the  story  of  the  drovers,  but  at  the  first 
word  of  it  my  voice  died  in  my  throat.  There  might  be  a 
limit  to  the  lawyer^s  toleration,  I  reflected.  I  had  not  been 
so  long  in  Britain  altogether  ;  for  the  most  part  of  that  time 
I  had  been  by  the  heels  in  limbo  in  Edinburgh  Castle  ;  and 
already  I  had  confessed  to  killing  one  man  with  a  pair  of 
scissors  ;  and  now  I  was  to  go  on  and  plead  guilty  to  having 
settled  another  with  a  holly  stick  !  A  wave  of  discretion 
went  over  me  as  cold  and  as  deep  as  the  sea. 

^^In  short,  sir,  this  is  a  matter  of  feeling, ''  I  concluded, 
^'^and  nothing  will  prevent  my  going  to  Edinburgh." 

If  I  had  fired  a  pistol  in  his  ear  he  could  not  have  been 
more  startled. 

'*  To  Edinburgh  ?"  he  repeated.  *''' Edinburgh  ?  where 
the  very  paving-stones  know  you  ! " 

''  Then  is  the  murder  out  ! "  said  I.  "  But,  Mr.  Ro- 
maine,  is  there  not  sometimes  safety  in  boldness  ?  Is  it  not 
a  commonplace  of  strategy  to  get  where  the  enemy  least 
expects  you  ?     And  where  would  he  expect  me  less  ?" 

'^  Faith,  there  is  something  in  that,  too!"  cried  the 
lawyer.     "  Ay,  certainly,  a  great  deal  in  that.     All  the  wit- 


216  ST.   IVES 

nesses  drowned  but  one,  and  lie  safe  in  prison  ;  you  your- 
self changed  beyond  recognition — let  us  hope — and  walking 
the  streets  of  the  very  town  you  have  illustrated  by  your — 
well,  your  eccentricity  !  It  is  not  badly  combined,  indeed  l'* 

^'  You  approve  it,  then  ?"  said  I. 

'^  0,  ajiprove  ! "  said  he ;  ^'  there  is  no  question  of  ap- 
proval. There  is  only  one  course  which  I  could  approve, 
and  that  wei'e  to  escape  to  France  instanter." 

'^  You  do  not  wholly  disapprove,  at  least  ?"  I  substituted. 

"  Not  wholly  ;  and  it  would  not  matter  if  I  did,"  he  re- 
plied. ''  Go  your  own  way  ;  you  are  beyond  argument. 
And  I  am  not  sure  that  you  will  run  more  danger  by  that 
course  than  by  any  other.  Give  the  servants  time  to  get  to 
bed  and  fall  asleep,  then  take  a  country  cross-road  and 
walk,  as  the  rhyme  has  it,  like  blazes  all  night.  In  the 
morning  take  a  chaise  or  take  the  mail  at' pleasure,  and  con- 
tinue your  journey  with  all  the  decorum  and  reserve  of 
which  you  shall  be  found  capable." 

'^  I  am  taking  the  picture  in,"  I  said.  ''  Give  me  time. 
^Tis  the  tout  ensemhle  I  must  see  :  the  whole  as  opposed  to 
the  details." 

^'  Mountebank  ! "  he  murmured. 

"  Yes,  I  have  it  now  ;  and  I  see  myself  with  a  servant, 
and  that  servant  is  Rowley,"  said  I. 

'^  So  as  to  have  one  more  link  with  your  uncle  ?  "  sug- 
gested the  lawyer.     ^'  Very  judicious  ! " 

^'^  And,  pardon  me,  but  that  is  what  it  is,"  I  exclaimed. 
'*  Judicious  is  the  word.  I  am  not  making  a  deception  fit 
to  last  for  thirty  years ;  I  do  not  found  a  palace  in  the 
living  granite  for  the  night.  This  is  a  shelter  tent — a  fly- 
ing picture — seen,  admired,  and  gone  again  in  the  wink  of 
an  eye.  What  is  wanted,  in  short,  is  a  troinpe-rceil  that 
shall  be  good  enough  for  twelve  houi's  at  an  inn  :  is  it 
not  so  ?  " 

% 


AFTER  THE   STORM  217 

*'It  is,  and  the  objection  holds.  Rowley  is  but  another 
danger/'  said  Romaine. 

'^Rowley/'  said  I,  ^^  will  pass  as  a  servant  from  a  dis- 
tance— as  a  creature  seen  poised  on  the  dicky  of  a  bowling 
chaise.  He  will  pass  at  hand  as  the  smart,  civil  fellow  one 
meets  in  the  inn  corridor,  and  looks  back  at,  and  asks,  and 
is  told,  '  Gentleman's  servant  in  Number  4/  He  will  pass, 
in  fact,  all  round,  except  with  his  personal  friends  !  My 
dear  sir,  pray  what  do  you  expect  ?  Of  course,  if  we  meet 
my  cousin,  or  if  we  meet  anybody  who  took  part  in  the 
judicious  exhibition  of  this  evening,  we  are  lost ;  and  who's 
denying  it  ?  To  every  disguise,  however  good  and  safe, 
there  is  always  the  weak  point ;  you  must  always  take  (let 
us  say— and  to  take  a  simile  from  your  own  waistcoat 
pocket)  a  snuff-box-full  of  risk.  You'll  get  it  just  as  small 
with  Rowley  as  with  anybody  else.  And  the  long  and  short 
of  it  is,  the  lad's  honest,  he  likes  me,  I  trust  him ;  he  is  my 
servant,  or  nobody." 

"  He  might  not  accept,"  said  Romaine. 

''  I  bet  you  a  thousand  pounds  he  does  ! "  cried  I.  ''  But 
no  matter  ;  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  send  him  out  to-night 
on  this  'cross-country  business,  and  leave  the  thing  to  me. 
I  tell  you,  he  will  be  my  servant,  and  I  tell  you,  he  will  do 
well." 

I  had  crossed  the  room,  and  was  already  overhauling  my 
wardrobe  as  I  spoke. 

"Well,"  concluded  the  lawyer,  with  a  shrug,  "one  risk 
with  another  :  a  la  guerre  comme  a  la  guerre,  as  you  would 
say.  Let  the  brat  come  and  be  useful,  at  least."  And  he 
was  about  to  ring  the  bell,  when  his  eye  was  caught  by  my 
researches  in  the  wardrobe.  "Do  not  fall  in  love  with 
these  coats,  waistcoats,  cravats,  and  other  panoply  and  ac- 
coutrements by  which  you  are  now  surrounded.  You  must 
not  run  the  post  as  a  dandy.     It  is  not  the  fashion,  even  " 


218  ST.    IVES 

''  You  are  pleased  to  be  facetious,  sir/'  said  I ;  ''  and  not 
according  to  knowledge.  These  clothes  are  my  life,  they 
are  my  disguise  ;  and  since  I  can  take  but  few  of  them,  I 
were  a  fool  indeed  if  I  selected  hastily  I  Will  you  under- 
stand, once  and  for  all,  what  I  am  seeking  ?  To  be  in- 
visible, is  the  first  point ;  the  second,  to  be  invisible  in  a 
post-chaise  and  with  a  servant.  Can  you  not  perceive  the 
delicacy  of  the  quest  ?  Xothing  must  be  too  coarse,  noth- 
ing too  fine  ;  rien  de  voijant,  rien  qui  lUtonne ;  so  that  I 
may  leave  everywhere  the  inconspicuous  image  of  a  hand- 
some young  man  of  a  good  fortune  travelling  in  proper 
style,  whom  the  landlord  will  forget  in  twelve  hours — and 
the  chambermaid  perhaps  remember,  God  bless  her  !  with 
a  sigh.     This  is  the  very  fine  art  of  dress.'' 

''I  have  practised  it  with  success  for  fifty  years,"  said 
Romaine,  with  a  chuckle.  ''  A  black  suit  and  a  clean  shirt 
is  my  infallible  recipe." 

''You  surprise  me  ;  I  did  not  think  you  would  be  shal- 
low !"  said  I,  liugering  between  two  coats.  ''Pray,  Mr. 
Romaine,  have  I  your  head  ?  or  did  you  travel  post  and 
with  a  smartish  servant  ?  " 

"  Neither,  I  admit,"  said  he. 

"  Which  changes  the  whole  problem,"  I  continued.  "  I 
have  to  dress  for  a  smartish  servant  and  a  Russia  leather 
despatch-box."  That  brought  me  to  a  stand.  I  came  over 
and  looked  at  the  box  with  a  moment's  hesitation.  "  Yes," 
I  resumed.  "  Yes,  and  for  the  despatch-box  !  It  looks 
moneyed  and  landed  ;  it  means  I  have  a  lawyer.  It  is  an 
invaluable  property.  But  I  could  have  wished  it  to  hold 
less  money.  The  responsibility  is  crusliing.  Should  I  not 
do  more  wisely  to  take  five  hundred  pounds,  and  entrust 
the  remainder  with  you,  Mr.  Romaine  ?  " 

"  If  you  are  sure  you  will  not  want  it,"  answered  Romaine. 

"I  am  far  from  sure  of  that,"  cried  I.     "In  the  first 


AFTER  THE   STORM  219 

place,  as  a  philosopher.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  been  at 
the  head  of  a  large  sum,  and  it  is  conceivable — who  knows 
himself  ? — that  I  may  make  it  fly.  In  the  second  place, 
as  a  fugitive.  Who  knows  what  I  may  need  ?  The  whole 
of  it  may  be  inadequate.   But  I  can  always  write  for  more." 

''You  do  not  understand,"  he  replied.  "  I  break  off  all 
communication  with  you  here  and  now.  You  must  give 
me  a  power  of  attorney  ere  you  start  to-night,  and  then  be 
done  with  me  trenchantly  until  better  days." 

I  believe  I  offered  some  objection. 

'' Think  a  little  for  once  of  me!"  said  Romaine.  "I 
must  not  have  seen  you  before  to-night.  To-night  we  are 
to  have  had  our  only  interview,  and  you  are  to  have  given 
me  the  power ;  and  to-night  I  am  to  have  lost  sight  of  you 
again — I  know  not  whither,  you  were  upon  business,  it 
was  none  of  my  affairs  to  question  you  !  And  this,  you  are 
to  remark,  in  the  interests  of  your  own  safety  much  more 
than  mine." 

''I  am  not  even  to  write  to  you  ?"  I  said,  a  little  be- 
wildered. 

"  I  believe  I  am  cutting  the  last  strand  that  connects  yon 
with  common  sense,"  he  replied.  "  But  that  is  the  plain 
English  of  it.  You  are  not  even  to  write ;  and  if  you  did, 
I  would  not  answer." 

''A  letter,  however "  I  began. 

''  Listen  to  me,"  interrupted  Romaine.  "  So  soon  as 
your  cousin  reads  the  paragraph,  what  will  he  do  ?  Put 
the  police  upon  looking  into  my  correspondence  !  So  soon 
as  you  write  to  me,  in  short,  you  write  to  Bow  Street ;  and 
if  you  will  take  my  advice,  you  will  date  that  letter  from 
France." 

"  The  devil  ! "  said  I,  for  I  began  suddenly  to  see  that 
this  might  put  me  out  of  the  way  of  my  business. 

''What  is  it  now  ?  "  says  he. 


220  ST.   IVES 

*'  There  will  be  more  to  be  done,  then,  before  we  can 
part,"  I  answered. 

'*I  give  you  the  whole  night/'  said  he.  "So  long  as 
you  are  off  ere  daybreak,  I  am  content. "" 

"  In  short,  Mr.  Romaine,"  said  1,  "  I  have  had  so  much 
benefit  of  your  advice  and  services  that  I  am  loath  to  sever 
the  connection,  and  would  even  ask  a  substitute.  I  would 
be  obliged  for  a  letter  of  introduction  to  one  of  your  own 
cloth  in  Edinburgh — an  old  man  for  choice,  very  experi- 
enced, very  respectable,  and  very  secret.  Could  you  favour 
me  with  such  a  letter  ?'' 

*^  Why,  no,''  said  he.  ^*  Certainly  not.  I  will  do  no 
such  thing,  indeed." 

"  It  would  be  a  great  favour,  sir,"  I  pleaded. 

''  It  would  be  an  unpardonable  blunder,"  he  replied. 
^'  What  ?  Give  you  a  letter  of  introduction  ?  and  when 
the  police  come,  I  suppose,  I  must  forget  the  circumstance  ? 
No,  indeed.     Talk  of  it  no  more." 

"^  You  seem  to  be  always  in  the  right,"  said  I.  ''The 
letter  would  be  out  of  the  question,  I  quite  see  that.  But 
the  lawyer's  name  might  very  well  have  dropped  from  you 
in  the  way  of  conversation  ;  having  heard  him  mentioned, 
I  might  profit  by  the  circumstance  to  introduce  myself  ; 
and  in  this  way  my  business  would  be  the  better  done,  and 
you  not  in  the  least  compromised." 

''  What  is  this  business  ?  "  said  Romaine. 

*'  I  have  not  said  that  I  had  any,"  I  replied.  "  It  might 
arise.     This  is  only  a  possibility  that  I  must  keep  in  view."* 

"  AVell,"  said  he,  with  a  gesture  of  the  hands,  ''  I  men- 
tion Mr.  Robbie  ;  and  let  that  be  an  en&  of  it  ! — Or  wait ! " 
he  added,  "  I  have  it.  Here  is  something  that  will  serve 
you  for  an  introduction,  and  cannot  compromise  me." 
And  he  wrote  his  name  and  the  Edinburgh  lawyer's  address 
on  a  piece  of  card  and  tossed  it  to  me. 


CHAPTEE   XXI 

I    BECOME    THE   OWNER   OF    A    CLARET-COLOURED    CHAISE 

What  with  packing,  signing  papers,  and  partaking  of 
an  excellent  cold  supper  in  the  lawyer's  room,  it  was  past 
two  in  the  morning  before  we  were  ready  for  the  road. 
Romaine  himself  let  us  out  of  a  window  in  a  part  of  the 
house  known  to  Rowley  :  it  appears  it  served  as  a  kind  of 
postern  to  the  servants'  hall,  by  which  (when  they  were  in 
the  mind  for  a  clandestine  evening)  they  would  come  regu- 
Uxrly  in  and  out ;  and  I  remember  very  well  the  vinegar 
aspect  of  the  lawyer  on  the  receipt  of  this  piece  of  infor- 
mation— how  he  pursed  his  lips,  jutted  his  eyebrows,  and 
kept  repeating,  "  This  must  be  seen  to,  indeed  !  this  shall 
be  barred  to-morrow  in  the  morning  ! "  In  this  preoccu- 
pation, I  believe  he  took  leave  of  me  without  observing  it ; 
our  things  were  handed  out ;  we  heard  the  window  shut 
behind  us  ;  and  became  instantly  lost  in  a  horrid  intricacy 
of  blackness  and  the  shadow  of  woods. 

A  little  wet  snow  kept  sleepily  falling,  pausing,  and  fall- 
ing again  ;  it  seemed  perpetually  beginning  to  snow  and 
perpetually  leaving  off  ;  and  the  darkness  was  intense. 
Time  and  again  we  walked  into  trees  ;  time  and  again 
found  ourselves  adrift  among  garden  borders  or  stuck  like 
a  ram  in  the  thicket.  Rowley  had  possessed  himself  of  the 
matches,  and  he  was  neither  to  be  terrified  nor  softened. 
''  No,  I  will  not,  Mr.  Anne,  sir,"  he  would  reply.  "You 
know  he  tell  me  to  wait  till  we  were  over  the  'ill.     It's  only 

221 


222  ST.  IVES 

a  little  way  now.  Why,  and  I  thought  yon  was  a  soldier, 
too  ! ''  I  was  at  least  a  very  glad  soldier  when  my  valet 
consented  at  last  to  kindle  a  thieves'  match.  From  this, 
we  easily  lit  the  lantern  ;  and  thenceforward,  through  a 
labyrinth  of  woodland  paths,  were  conducted  by  its  uneasy 
glimmer.  Both  booted  and  great-coated,  with  tall  hats 
much  of  a  shape,  and  laden  with  booty  in  the  form  of  the 
despatch-box,  a  case  of  pistols,  and  two  plump  valises,  I 
thought  we  had  very  much  the  look  of  r  pair  of  brothers 
returning  from  the  sack  of  Amersham  Place. 

We  issued  at  last  upon  a  country  by-road  where  we  might 
walk  abreast  and  without  precaution.  It  was  nine  miles  to 
Aylesbury,  our  immediate  destination  ;  by  a  watch,  which 
formed  part  of  my  new  outfit,  it  should  be  about  half -past 
three  in  the  morning  ;  and  as  we  did  not  choose  to  arrive 
before  daylight,  time  could  not  be  said  to  press.  I  gave 
the  order  to  march  at  ease. 

'^  Now,  Rowley,"  said  I,  '^  so  far  so  good.  You  have 
come,  in  the  most  obliging  manner  in  the  world,  to  carry 
these  valises.  The  question  is,  what  next  ?  What  are 
we  to  do  at  Aylesbury  ?  or,  more  particularly,  what  are 
you  ?  Thence,  I  go  on  a  journey.  Are  you  to  accompany 
me?'' 

He  gave  a  little  chuckle.  ^^  That's  all  settled  already, 
Mr.  Anne,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  AYhy,  I've  got  my  things 
here  in  the  valise — a  half  a  dozen  shirts  and  what  not  ;  I'm 
all  ready,  sir  :  just  you  lead  on  ;  you'll  see." 

*^  The  devil  you  have  I "  said  I.  ^'  You  made  pretty 
sure  of  your  welcome." 

^^If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Rowley. 

He  looked  up  at  me,  in  tlie  light  of  the  lantern,  with  a 
boyish  shyness  and  triumph  that  awoke  my  conscience.  I 
could  never  let  this  innocent  involve  himself  in  the  perils 
and  difficulties  that  beset  my  course,  without  some  hint  of 


I   BECOME  THE   OWNER   OF   A   CHAISE  223 

warning,  which  it  was  a  matter  of  extreme  delicacy  to  make 
plain  enough  and  not  too  plain. 

'*^  No,  no,"  said  I;  '^^  yon  may  think  you  have  made  a 
choice,  but  it  was  blindfold,  and  you  must  make  it  over 
again.  The  Count^s  service  is  a  good  one  ;  what  are  you 
leaving  it  for  ?  Are  you  not  throwing  away  the  substance 
for  the  shadow  ?  No,  do  not  answer  me  yet.  You  imag- 
ine that  I  am  a  prosperous  nobleman,  just  declared  my 
uncle's  heir,  on  the  threshold  of  the  best  of  good  fortune, 
and  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  judicious  servant,  a  jewel 
of  a  master  to  serve  and  stick  to  ?  AVell,  my  boy,  I  am 
nothing  of  the  kind,  nothing  of  the  kind." 

As  I  said  the  words,  I  came  to  a  full  stop  and  held  up 
the  lantern  to  his  face.  He  stood  before  me,  brilliantly 
illuminated  on  the  background  of  impenetrable  night  and 
falling  snow,  stricken  to  stone  between  his  double  burden 
like  an  ass  between  two  panniers,  and  gaping  at  me  like  a 
blunderbuss.  I  had  never  seen  a  face  so  predestined  to  be 
astonished,  or  so  suscej^ttible  of  rendering  the  emotion  of 
surprise  ;  and  it  tempted  me  as  an  open  piano  tempts  the 
musician. 

''  Nothing  of  the  sort,  Rowley,"  I  continued,  in  a  church- 
yard voice.  ^'  These  are  appearances,  pretty  ap2:)earances. 
I  am  in  peril,  homeless,  hunted.  I  count  scarce  any  one 
in  England  who  is  not  my  enemy.  From  this  hour  I  drop 
my  name,  my  title  ;  I  become  nameless  ;  my  name  is  joro- 
scribed.  My  liberty,  my  life,  hang  by  a  hair.  The  des- 
tiny which  you  will  accept,  if  you  go  forth  with  me,  is  to 
be  tracked  by  spies,  to  hide  yourself  under  a  false  name,  to 
follow  the  desperate  pretences  and  perhaps  share  the  fate 
of  a  murderer  with  a  price  upon  his  head." 

His  face  had  been  hitherto  beyond  expectation,  passing 
from  one  depth  to  another  of  tragic  astonishment,  and 
really  worth  paying  to  see  ;  but  at  this,  it  suddenly  cleared. 


224  ST.  IVES 

*^0,  I  ain't  afraid!"   he  said;   and  then,  choking  into 
laughter,  "  why,  I  see  it  from  the  first  ! " 

I  could  have  beaten  him.  But  I  had  so  grossly  overshot 
the  mark  that  I  suppose  it  took  me  two  good  miles  of  road 
and  half  an  hour  of  elocution  to  persuade  him  I  had  been 
in  earnest.  In  the  course  of  Avhich,  I  became  so  interested 
in  demonstrating  my  present  danger  that  I  forgot  all  about 
my  future  safety,  and  not  only  told  him  the  story  of 
Goguelat,  but  threw  in  the  business  of  the  drovers  as  Avell, 
and  ended  by  blurting  out  that  I  was  a  soldier  of  Napo- 
leon's and  a  prisoner  of  war. 

This  was  far  from  my  views  when  I  began  ;  and  it  is  a 
common  complaint  of  me  that  I  have  a  long  tongue.  I 
believe  it  is  a  fault  beloved  by  fortune.  Which  of  you  con- 
siderate fellows  would  have  done  a  thing  at  once  so  fool- 
hardy and  so  wise  as  to  make  a  confidant  of  a  boy  in  his 
teens,  and  positively  smelling  of  the  nursery  ?  And  when 
had  I  cause  to  repent  it  ?  There  is  none  so  apt  as  a  boy  to 
be  the  adviser  of  any  man  in  difficulties  such  as  mine.  To 
the  beginnings  of  virile  common  sense  he  adds  the  last 
lights  of  the  child's  imagination  ;  and  he  can  fling  himself 
into  business  with  that  superior  earnestness  that  properly 
belongs  to  play.  And  Eowley  was  a  boy  made  to  my  hand. 
He  had  a  high  sense  of  romance,  and  a  secret  cultus  for  all 
soldiers  and  criminals.  His  travelling  library  consisted  of 
a  chap-book  life  of  AVallace  and  some  sixpenny  parts  of  the 
^Old  Bailey  Sessions  Papers'  by  Gurney  the  shorthand 
writer  ;  and  the  choice  depicts  his  character  to  a  hair.  You 
can  imagine  how  his  new  prospects  brightened  on  a  boy  of 
this  disposition.  To  be  the  servant  and  companion  of  a 
fugitive,  a  soldier,  and  a  murderer,  rolled  in  one — to  live 
by  stratagems,  disguises,  and  false  names,  in  an  atmosphere 
of  midnight  and  mystery  so  thick  that  you  could  cut  it 
with  a  knife— was  really,  I  believe,  more  dear  to  him  than 


I   BECOME  THE   OWNER   OF   A   CHAISE  225 

his  meals,  though  he  was  a  great  trencherman,  and  some- 
thing of  a  glutton  besides.  For  myself,  as  the  peg  by  Avhich 
all  this  romantic  business  hung,  I  was  simply  idolised  from 
that  moment  ;  and  he  would  rather  have  sacrificed  his 
hand  than  surrendered  the  privilege  of  serving  me. 

We  arranged  the  terms  of  our  campaign,  trudging  ami- 
cably in  the  snow,  which  now,  with  the  approach  of  morn- 
ing, began  to  fall  to  purpose.  I  chose  the  name  of  Ra- 
mornie,  I  imagine  from  its  likeness  to  Romaine  ;  Row- 
ley, from  an  irresistible  conversion  of  ideas,  I  dubbed 
Gammon.  His  distress  was  laughable  to  witness  :  his  own 
choice  of  an  unassuming  nickname  had  been  Claude  Duval ! 
We  settled  our  procedure  at  the  various  inns  where  we 
should  alight,  rehearsed  our  little  manners  like  a  piece  of 
drill  until  it  seemed  impossible  we  should  ever  be  taken 
unprepared  ;  and  in  all  these  dispositions,  you  may  be  sure 
the  despatch-box  was  not  forgotten.  Who  was  to  pick  it 
up,  who  was  to  set  it  down,  who  was  to  remain  beside  it, 
who  was  to  sleep  with  it — there  was  no  contingency 
omitted,  all  was  gone  into  with  the  thoroughness  of  a 
drill-sergeant  on  the  one  hand  and  a  child  with  a  new  play- 
thing on  the  other. 

"  I  say,  wouldn't  it  look  queer  if  you  and  me  was  to  come 
to  the  post-house  with  all  this  luggage  ? ''  said  Rowley. 

''  I  daresay,'^  I  replied.   "  But  what  else  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

''  Well,  now,  sir — you  hear  me,""  says  Rowley.  "  I  think 
it  would  look  more  natural-like  if  you  was  to  come  to  the 
post-house  alone,  and  with  nothing  in  your  'ands — more 
like  a  gentleman,  you  know.  And  you  might  say  that  your 
servant  and  baggage  was  a- waiting  for  you  up  the  road.  I 
think  I  could  manage,  somehow,  to  make  a  shift  with  all 
them  dratted  things — leastways  if  you  was  to  give  me  a 
^and  up  with  them  at  the  start."' 

"And  I  would  see  you  far  enough  before  I  allowed  you  to 
15 


226  ST.  IVES 

try,  Mr.  Rowley  !"  I  cried.  ''Why,  yon  would  be  quite 
defenceless  !  A  footpad  that  was  an  infant  child  could  rob 
you.  And  I  should  probably  come  driving  by  to  find  you 
in  a  ditch  with  your  throat  cut.  But  there  is  something 
in  your  idea,  for  all  that ;  and  I  propose  we  put  it  in  exe- 
cution no  farther  forward  than  the  next  corner  of  a  lane." 

Accordingly,  instead  of  continuing  to  aim  for  Aylesbury, 
we  headed  by  cross-roads  for  some  point  to  the  northward 
of  it,  whither  I  might  assist  Rowley  with  the  baggage,  and 
where  I  might  leave  him  to  await  my  return  in  the  post- 
chaise. 

It  was  snowing  to  purpose,  the  country  all  wdiite,  and 
ourselves  walking  snowdrifts,  when  the  first  glimmer  of 
the  morning  showed  us  an  inn  upon  the  highway  side. 
Some  distance  off,  under  the  shelter  of  a  corner  of  the 
road  and  a  clump  of  trees,  J  loaded  Rowley  with  the  whole 
of  our  possessions,  and  watched  him  till  he  staggered  in 
safety  into  the  doors  of  the  Green  Dragon,  which  was  the 
sign  of  the  house.  Thence  I  walked  briskly  into  Ayles- 
bury, rejoicing  in  my  freedom  and  the  causeless  good 
spirits  that  belong  to  a  snowy  morning  ;  though,  to  be 
sure,  long  before  I  had  arrived  the  snow  had  again  ceased 
to  fall,  and  the  eaves  of  Aylesbury  were  smoking  in  the 
level  sun.  There  was  an  accumulation  of  gigs  and  chaises 
in  the  yard,  and  a  great  bustle  going  forward  in  the  coffee- 
room  and  about  the  doors  of  the  inn.  At  these  evidences 
of  so  much  travel  on  the  road  I  was  seized  with  a  misgiv- 
ing lest  it  should  be  impossible  to  get  horses  and  I  should 
be  detained  in  the  precarious  neighbourhood  of  my  cousin. 
Hungry  as  I  was,  I  made  my  way  first  of  all  to  the  post- 
master, where  he  stood—a  big,  athletic,  horsey- looking 
man,  blowing  into  a  key  in  the  corner  of  the  yard. 

On  my  making  my  modest  request,  he  awoke  from  his 
indifference  into  what  seemed  passion. 


I   BECOME  THE   OWNER   OF   A    CHAISE  227 

"A  po^-shay  and  'osses  !  "  he  cried.  "  Do  I  look  as  if  I 
^ad  a  po'-shay  and  'osses  ?  Damn  me,  if  I  'ave  such  a  tiling 
on  the  premises.  I  don^t  mahe  ^osses  and  chaises — I  'ire 
'em.  You  might  be  God  Almighty  ! "  said  he  ;  and  in- 
stantly, as  if  he  had  observed  me  for  the  first  time,  he 
broke  off,  and  lowered  his  voice  into  the  confidential. 
^'  Why,  now  that  I  see  you  are  a  gentleman,"  said  he,  ''  I'll 
tell  you  what !  If  you  like  to  buy,  I  have  the  article  to  fit 
you.  Second- 'and  shay  by  Lycett,  of  London.  Latest 
style  ;  good  as  new.  Superior  fittings,  net  on  the  roof, 
baggage  platform,  pistol  'olsters — the  most  com-plete  and 
the  most  gen-teel  turn-out  I  ever  see  !  The  'ole  for 
sevetity-five  pound  !     It's  as  good  as  givin'  her  away  !  " 

"Do  you  propose  I  should  trundle  it  myself,  like  a  haw- 
ker's barrow  ?"  said  I.  "Why,  my  good  man,  if  I  have 
to  stop  here,  anyway,  I  should  prefer  to  buy  a  house  and 
garden  ! " 

"  Come  and  look  at  her  ! "  he  cried  ;  and,  with  the  word, 
links  his  arm  in  mine  and  carries  m^  to  the  out-house 
where  the  chaise  was  on  view. 

It  was  just  the  sort  of  chaise  that  I  had  dreamed  of  for 
my  purpose  :  eminently  rich,  inconspicuous,  and  genteel ; 
for,  though  I  thought  the  postmaster  no  great  authority,  I 
was  bound  to  agree  with  him  so  far.  The  body  was  painted 
a  dark  claret,  and  the  wheels  an  invisible  green.  The  lamp 
and  glasses  were  bright  as  silver;  and  the  whole  equipage 
had  an  air  of  privacy  and  reserve  that  seemed  to  repel  in- 
quiry and  disarm  suspicion.  With  a  servant  like  Kowley, 
and  a  chaise  like  this,  I  felt  that  I  could  go  from  the  Land's 
End  to  John  o'  Groat's  House  amid  a  population  of  bow- 
ing ostlers.  And  I  suppose  I  betrayed  in  my  manner  the 
degree  in  which  the  bargain  tempted  me. 

"  Come,"  cried  the  postmaster—"  I'll  make  it  seventy, 
to  oblige  a  friend  !  " 


228     •  ST.  IVES 

''  The  point  is  :  the  horses/'  said  I. 

"  Well/'  said  he,  consulting  his  watch,  ''  it's  now  gone  the 
'alf  after  eight.  What  time  do  you  want  her  at  the  door?  " 

"  Horses  and  all  ?"  said  I. 

^^'Osses  and  all  !"  says  he.  ''One  good  turn  deserves 
another.  You  give  me  seventy  pound  for  the  shay,  and 
I'll  'oss  it  for  you.  I  told  you  I  didn't  make  'osses  ;  but  I 
can  make  'em  to  oblige  a  friend." 

What  would  you  have  ?  It  was  not  the  wisest  thing  in 
the  world  to  buy  a  chaise  within  a  dozen  miles  of  my 
uncle's  house  ;  but  in  this  way  I  got  my  horses  for  the  next 
stage.  And  by  any  other,  it  appeared  that  I  should  have 
to  wait.  Accordingly,  I  paid  the  money  down— perhaps 
twenty  pounds  too  much,  though  it  was  certainly  a  well- 
made  and  well-appointed  vehicle— ordered  it  round  in  half 
an  hour,  and  proceeded  to  refresh  myself  with  breakfast. 

The  table  to  which  I  sat  down  occupied  the  recess  of  a 
bay-window,  and  commanded  a  view  of  the  front  of  the 
inn,  where  I  continued  to  be  amused  by  the  successive  de- 
partures of  travellers — the  fussy  and  the  offhand,  the  nig- 
gardly and  the  lavish — all  exhibiting  their  different  char- 
acters in  that  diagnostic  moment  of  the  farewell  :  some 
escorted  to  the  stirrup  or  the  chaise  door  by  the  chamber- 
lain, the  chambermaids  and  the  waiters  almost  in  a  body, 
others  moving  off  under  a  cloud,  without  human  counte- 
nance. In  the  course  of  this  I  became  interested  in  one  for 
whom  this  ovation  began  to  assume  the  proportions  of  a 
triumph  ;  not  only  the  under-servants,  but  the  barmaid, 
the  landlady,  and  my  friend  the  postmaster  himself,  crowd- 
ing about  the  steps  to  speed  his  departure.  I  was  aware, 
at  the  same  time,  of  a  good  deal  of  merriment,  as  though 
the  traveller  were  a  man  of  a  ready  wit,  and  not  too  digni- 
fied to  air  it  in  that  society.  I  leaned  forward  with  a 
lively  curiosity  ;  and  the  next  moment  I  had  blotted  myself 


I 


I   BECOME   THE   OWNER   OF   A   CHAISE  229 

behind  the  teapot.  The  popuhir  traveller  had  turned 
to  wave  a  farewell  ;  and  behold  !  he  was  no  other  than 
my  cousin  Alain.  It  was  a  change  of  the  sharpest  from 
the  angry,  pallid  man  I  had  seen  at  Amersham  Place. 
Ruddy  to  a  fault,  illuminated  with  vintages,  crowned  with 
his  curls  like  Bacchus,  he  now  stood  before  me  for  an  in- 
stant, the  perfect  master  of  himself,  smiling  with  airs  of 
conscious  popularity  and  insufferable  condescension.  He 
reminded  me  at  once  of  a  royal  duke,  of  an  actor  turned  a 
little  elderly,  and  of  a  blatant  bagman  who  should  have 
been  the  illegitimate  son  of  a  gentleman.  A  moment  after 
he  was  gliding  noiselessly  on  the  road  to  London. 

I  breathed  again.  I  recognised,  with  heartfelt  grati- 
tude, how  lucky  I  had  been  to  go  in  by  the  stable-yard 
instead  of  the  hostelry  door,  and  what  a  fine  occasion  of 
meeting  my  cousin  I  had  lost  by  the  purchase  of  the  claret- 
coloured  chaise  !  The  next  moment  I  remembered  that 
there  was  a  waiter  present.  No  doubt  but  he  must  have 
observed  me  when  I  crouched  behind  the  breakfast  equi- 
page ;  no  doubt  but  he  must  have  commented  on  this  un- 
usual and  undignified  behaviour  ;  and  it  was  essential  that 
I  should  do  something  to  remove  the  impression. 

''  Waiter  ! "  said  I,  ''  that  was  the  nephew  of  Count  Car- 
well  that  just  drove  off,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

*^^  Yes,  sir  :  Viscount  Carwell  we  calls  him,"  he  replied. 

''  Ah,  I  thought  as  much,"  said  I.  ''  Well,  well,  damn 
all  these  Frenchmen,  say  I  !  " 

'*You  may  so  indeed,  sir,"  said  the  waiter.  '^They 
ain't  not  to  say  in  the  same  field  with  our  'ome-raised 
gentry." 

"  Nasty  tempers  ?"  I  suggested. 

''^Beas'ly  temper,  sir,  the  Viscount  'ave,"  said  the 
waiter  with  feeling.  ''Why,  no  longer  agone  than  this 
morning,  he  was  sitting  breakfasting  and  reading  in  his. 


230  ST.   I  YES 

paper.  I  suppose,  sir,  he  come  on  some  pilitical  informa- 
tion, or  it  might  be  about  Vses,  but  he  raps  his  'and  upon 
the  table  sudden  and  calls  for  curagoa.  It  gave  me  quite 
a  turn,  it  did  ;  he  did  it  that  sudden  and  Vd.  Now,  sir, 
that  may  be  manners  in  France,  but  hall  I  can  say  is.,  that 
Fm  not  used  to  it." 

"  Reading  the  paper,  was  he  ?  "  said  I.     "  What  paper, 
eh?" 

''Here  it  is,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  waiter.     'SSeems  like 
as  if  he'd  dropped  it." 

And  picking  it  o2  the  floor,  he  presented  it  to  me. 

I  may  say  that  I  was  quite  prepared,  that  I  already  knew 
what  to  expect ;  but  at  sight  of  the  cold  print  my  heart 
stopped  beating.  There  it  was  :  the  fulfilment  of  Romaine's 
apprehension  was  before  me  ;  the  paper  was  laid  open  at  the 
capture  of  Clausel.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  take  a  little  cura- 
90a  myself,  but  on  second  thoughts  called  for  brandy.  It 
was  badly  wanted;  and  suddenly  I  observed  the  waiter's 
eye  to  sparkle,  as  it  were,  with  some  recognition ;  made 
certain  he  had  remarked  the  resemblance  between  me  and 
Alain  ;  and  became  aware— as  by  a  revelation— of  the  fool's 
part  I  had  been  playing.  For  I  had  now  managed  to  put 
my  identification  beyond  a  doubt,  if  Alain  should  choose  to 
make  his  inquiries  at  Aylesbury  ;  and,  as  if  that  were  not 
enough,  I  had  added,  at  an  expense  of  seventy  pounds,  a 
clue  by  which  he  might  follow  me  through  the  length  and 
breadth  of  England,  in  the  shape  of  the  claret-coloured 
chaise  !  That  elegant  equipage  (which  I  began  to  regard 
as  little  better  than  a  claret-coloured  ante-room  to  the 
hangman's  cart)  coming  presently  to  the  door,  I  left  my 
breakfast  in  the  middle  and  departed  ;  posting  to  the 
north  as  diligently  as  my  cousin  Alain  was  posting  to  the 
south,  and  putting  my  trust  (such  as  it  was)  in  an  opposite, 
direction  and  equal  speed. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

CHAKACTER   AKD   ACQUIREMENTS   OF   MR.    ROWLEY 

I  AM  not  certain  that  I  had  ever  really  appreciated  be- 
fore that  honr  the  extreme  peril  of  the  adventure  on  which 
I  was  embarked.  The  sight  of  my  cousin,  the  look  of  his 
face — so  handsome,  so  jovial  at  the  first  sight,  and  branded 
with  so  much  malignity  as  you  saw  it  on  the  second — with 
his  hyperbolical  curls  in  order,  with  his  neckcloth  tied  as 
if  for  the  conquests  of  love,  setting  forth  (as  I  had  no 
doubt  in  the  world  he  was  doing)  to  clap  the  Bow  Street 
runners  on  my  trail,  and  cover  England  with  handbills, 
each  dangerous  as  a  loaded  musket,  convinced  me  for  the 
first  time  that  the  affair  was  no  less  serious  than  death.  I 
believe  it  came  to  a  near  touch  whether  I  sliould  not  turn 
the  horses'  heads  at  the  next  stage  and  make  directly  for  tlie 
coast.  But  I  was  now  in  the  position  of  a  man  who  should 
have  thrown  his  gage  into  the  den  of  lions  ;  or,  better 
still,  like  one  who  should  have  quarrelled  overnight  under 
the  influence  of  wine,  and  now,  at  daylight,  in  a  cold  win- 
ter's morning,  and  humbly  sober,  must  make  good  his 
words.  It  is  not  that  I  thought  any  the  less,  or  any  the 
less  warmly,  of  Flora.  But,  as  I  smoked  a  grim  segar  that 
morning  in  a  corner  of  the  chaise,  no  doubt  I  considered, 
in  the  first  place,  that  the  letter  post  had  been  invented, 
and  admitted  privately  to  myself,  in  the  second,  that  it 
would  have  been  highly  possible  to  write  her  on  a  piece  of 
paper,  seal  it,  and  send  it  skimming  by  the  mail,  instead  of 

2:u 


232  ST.  IVES 

going  personally  into  these  egregious  dangers  and  through 
a  country  that  I  beheld  crowded  with  gibbets  and  Bow 
Street  officers.  As  for  Sim  and  Caudlish,  I  doubt  if  they 
crossed  my  mind. 

At  the  Green  Dragon  Kowley  was  waiting  on  the  door- 
steps with  the  luggage,  and  really  was  bursting  with  un- 
palatable conversation. 

'^  Who  do  you  think  we've  'ad  'ere,  sir  ?  "  he  began  breath- 
lessly, as  the  chaise  drove  o2.  ''Red  Breasts";  and  he 
nodded  his  head  portentously. 

'' Eed  Breasts?"!  repeated,  for  I  stupidly  did  not  un- 
derstand at  the  moment  an  expression  I  had  often  heard. 

''Ah!"  said  he.  "  Red  weskits.  Runners.  Bow  Street 
runners.  Two  on  'em,  and  one  was  Lavender  himself  !  I 
hear  the  other  say  quite  plain,  'Now,  Mr.  Lavender,  if 
you're  ready.'  They  was  breakfasting  as  nigh  me  as  I  am 
to  that  post-boy.  They're  all  right ;  they  ain't  after  us. 
It's  a  forger ;  and  I  didn't  send  them  off  on  a  false  scent — 
0  no  !  I  thought  there  was  no  use  in  having  them  over 
our  way  ;  so  I  give  them  '  very  valuable  information,'  Mr. 
Lavender  said,  and  tipped  me  a  tizzy  for  myself  ;  and 
they're  off  to  Luton.  They  showed  me  the  'andcuffs,  too 
— the  other  one  did — and  he  clicked  the  dratted  things 
on  my  wrist ;  and  I  tell  you,  I  believe  I  nearly  went  off  in 
a  swound  !  There's  something  so  beastly  in  the  feel  of 
them  !  Begging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Anne,"  he  added,  with 
one  of  his  delicious  changes  from  the  character  of  the 
confidential  schoolboy  into  that  of  the  trained,  respectful 
servant. 

Well,  I  must  not  be  proud  !  I  cannot  say  I  found  the 
subject  of  handcuffs  to  my  fancy  ;  and  it  was  with  more 
asperity  than  was  needful  that  I  reproved  him  for  the  slip 
I'.bout  the  name. 

*'  Yes,  Mr.  Ramornie,"  says  he,  touching  his  hat.   "  Beg- 


CHARACTER   OF   MR.    ROWLEY  288 

ging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Ramornie.  But  I've  been  very 
piticular,  sir,  up  to  now ;  and  you  may  trust  me  to  be  very 
piticular  in  the  future.     It  were  only  a  slip,  sir." 

''  My  good  boy,"  said  I,  with  the  most  imposing  severity, 
"  there  must  be  no  slips.  Be  so  good  as  to  remember  that 
my  life  is  at  stake." 

I  did  not  embrace  the  occasion  of  telling  him  how  many 
I  had  made  myself.  It  is  my  principle  that  an  officer  must 
never  be  wrong.  I  have  seen  two  divisions  beating  their 
brains  out  for  a  fortnight  against  a  worthless  and  quite  im- 
pregnable castle  in  a  pass  :  I  knew  we  were  only  doing  it 
for  discipline,  because  the  General  had  said  so  at  first,  and 
had  not  yet  found  any  way  out  of  his  own  words  ;  and  I 
highly  admired  his  force  of  character,  and  throughout 
these  operations  thought  my  life  exposed  in  a  very  good 
cause.  With  fools  and  children,  which  included  Rowley, 
the  necessity  was  even  greater.  I  proposed  to  myself  to  be 
infallible  ;  and  even  when  he  expressed  some  wonder  at  the 
purchase  of  the  claret-coloured  chaise,  I  put  him  promptly 
in  his  place.  In  our  situation,  I  told  him,  everything  had 
to  be  sacrificed  to  appearances  ;  doubtless,  in  a  hired  chaise! 
we  should  have  had  more  freedom,  but  look  at  the  dignity, 
I  was  so  positive,  that  I  had  sometimes  almost  convinced 
myself.  Not  for  long,  you  may  be  certain  !  This  detest- 
able conveyance  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  laden  with 
Bow  Street  officers,  and  to  have  a  placard  upon  the  back 
of  it  publishing  my  name  and  crimes.  If  I  had  paid  seventy 
pounds  to  get  the  thing,  I  should  not  have  stuck  at  seven 
hundred  to  be  safely  rid  of  it. 

And  if  the  chaise  was  a  danger,  what  an  anxiety  was  the 
despatch-box  and  its  golden  cargo  !  I  had  never  had  a 
care  but  to  draw  my  pay  and  spend  it ;  I  had  lived  happily 
in  the  regiment,  as  in  my  father's  house,  fed  by  the  great 
Emperor's  commissariat  as  by  ubiquitous  doves  of  Elijah — 


234  ST.  IVES 

or,  my  faith  !  if  anything  went  wrong  with  the  commis- 
sariat, helloing  myself  with  the  best  grace  in  the  world  from 
the  next  peasant !  And  now  I  began  to  feel  at  the  same 
time  the  burthen  of  riches  and  the  fear  of  destitution. 
There  were  ten  thousand  pounds  in  the  despatch-box,  but  I 
reckoned  in  French  money,  and  had  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  agonies  ;  I  kept  it  under  my  hand  all  day,  I 
dreamed  of  it  at  night.  In  the  inns,  I  was  afraid  to  go  to 
dinner  and  afraid  to  go  to  sleep.  When  I  walked  up  a  hill, 
I  durst  not  leave  the  doors  of  the  claret-coloured  chaise. 
Sometimes  I  would  change  the  disposition  of  the  funds  : 
there  were  days  when  I  carried  as  much  as  five  or  six  thou- 
sand pounds  on  my  own  person,  and  only  the  residue  contin- 
ued to  voyage  in  the  treasure  chest — days  when  I  bulked  all 
over  like  my  cousin,  crackled  to  a  touch  with  bank  paper, 
and  had  my  pockets  weighed  to  bursting  point  with  sov- 
ereigns. And  there  were  other  days  when  I  wearied  of  the 
thing — or  grew  ashamed  of  it — and  put  all  the  money  back 
where  it  had  come  from  :  there  let  it  take  its  chance,  like 
better  people  !  In  short,  I  set  Eowley  a  poor  example  of 
consistency,  and  in  philosophy,  none  at  all. 

Little  he  cared  !  All  was  one  to  him  so  long  as  he  was 
a,mused,  and  I  never  knew  any  one  amused  more  easily. 
He  was  thrillingly  interested  in  life,  travel,  and  his  own 
melodramatic  position.  All  day  he  would  be  looking  from 
the  chaise  windows  with  ebullitions  of  gratified  curiosity, 
that  were  sometimes  justified  and  sometimes  not,  and  that 
(taken  altogether)  it  occasionally  wearied  me  to  be  obliged 
to  share.  I  can  look  at  horses,  and  I  can  look  at  trees 
too,  although  not  fond  of  it.  But  why  should  I  look  at  a 
lame  horse,  or  a  tree  that  was  like  the  letter  Y  ?  What 
exhilaration  could  I  feel  in  viewins:  a  cottaoe  that  was  the 
same  colour  as  "  the  second  from  the  miller's  "  in  some 
place  where  I  had  never  been  and    of   which   I  had  not 


I 


CHAEACTER  OF   MK.    EOWLEY  235 

previously  heard  ?  I  am  ashamed  to  complain,  hut  there 
were  moments  when  my  juvenile  and  confidential  friend 
weighed  heavy  on  my  hands.  His  cackle  was  indeed  al- 
most continuous,  but  it  was  never  unamiable.  lie  sliowed 
an  amiable  curiosity  when  he  was  asking  questions  ;  an 
amiable  guilelessness  when  he  was  conferring  information. 
And  both  he  did  largely.  I  am  in  a  position  to  write  the 
biographies  of  Mr.  Rowley,  Mr.  Rowley's  father  and  mother, 
his  Aunt  Eliza,  and  the  miller's  dog  ;  and  nothing  but  pity 
for  the  reader,  and  some  misgivings  as  to  the  law  of  copy- 
right, prevail  on  me  to  withhold  them. 

A  general  design  to  mould  himself  upon  my  example 
became  early  apparent,  and  I  had  not  the  heart  to  check 
it.  He  began  to  mimic  my  carriage ;  he  acquired,  with 
servile  accuracy,  a  little  manner  I  had  of  shrugging  the 
shoulders  ;  and  I  may  say  it  was  by  observing  it  in  him 
that  I  first  discovered  it  in  myself.  One  day  it  came  out 
by  chance  that  I  was  of  the  Catholic  religion.  He  became 
plunged  in  thought,  at  which  I  was  gently  glad.  Then 
suddenly, — 

"  Odd-rabbit  it !  I'll  be  Catholic  too  !  "  he  broke  out. 
"  You  must  teach  me  it,  Mr.  Anne — I  mean,  Ramornie." 

I  dissuaded  him  :  alleging  that  he  would  find  me  very 
imperfectly  informed  as  to  the  grounds  and  doctrines  of 
the  Church,  and  that,  after  all,  in  the  matter  of  religions, 
it  was  a  very  poor  idea  to  change.  ^'  Of  course,  my  Church 
is  the  best,"  said  I  ;  '''but  that  is  not  the  reason  why  I 
belong  to  it :  I  belong  to  it  because  it  was  the  faith  of  my 
house.  I  wish  to  take  my  chances  with  my  own  people, 
and  so  should  you.  If  it  is  a  question  of  going  to  hell,  go 
to  hell  like  a  gentleman  with  your  ancestors." 

"  Well,  it  wasn't  that,"  he  admitted.  "  I  don't  know 
that  I  was  exactly  thinking  of  hell.  Then  there's  the  in- 
quisition, too.     That's  rather  a  cawker,  you  know." 


236  ST.  IVES 

**  And  I  don't  believe  you  were  thinking  of  anything  in 
the  world,"  said  I — which  put  a  period  to  his  respectable 
conversion. 

He  consoled  himself  by  playing  for  awhile  on  a  chea]:) 
flageolet,  which  was  one  of  his  diversions,  and  to  which  I 
owed  many  intervals  of  peace.  When  he  first  produced  it, 
in  the  joints,  from  his  pocket,  he  had  the  duplicity  to  ask 
me  if  I  i^layed  ujDon  it.  I  answered,  no  ;  and  he  put  the 
instrument  away  with  a  sigh  and  the  remark  that  he  had 
thought  I  might.  For  some  while  he  resisted  the  un- 
speakable temptation,  his  fingers  visibly  itching  and  twit- 
tering about  his  pocket,  even  his  interest  in  the  landscaj^e 
and  in  sporadic  anecdote  entirely  lost.  Presently  the  pipe 
was  in  his  hands  again  ;  he  fitted,  unfitted,  refitted,  and 
played  upon  it  in  dumb  show  for  some  time. 

"I  play  it  myself  a  little,"  says  he. 

*'  Do  yon  ?  "  said  I,  and  yawned. 

And  then  he  broke  down. 

^'  Mr.  Ramornie,  if  you  please,  would  it  disturb  you,  sir, 
if  I  was  to  play  a  chune?"  he  pleaded.  And  from  that 
hour,  the  tootling  of  the  flageolet  cheered  our  way. 

He  was  particularly  keen  on  the  details  of  battles,  single 
combats,  incidents  of  scouting  parties,  and  the  like.  These 
he  would  make  haste  to  cap  with  some  of  the  exploits  of 
Wallace,  the  only  hero  with  whom  he  had  the  least  ac- 
quaintance. His  enthusiasm  was  genuine  and  pretty. 
When  he  learned  we  were  going  to  Scotland,  ^*  Well,  then," 
he  broke  out,  ''  I'll  see  where  Wallace  lived  ! "  And  pres- 
ently after,  he  fell  to  moralising.  ^'  It's  a  strange  thing, 
sir,"  he  began,  '^that  I  seem  somehow  to  have  always  the 
wrong  sow  by  the  ear.  I'm  English  after  all,  and  I  glory 
in  it.  My  eye  !  don't  I,  though  !  Let  some  of  your 
Frenchies  come  over  here  to  invade,  and  you'll  see  whether 
or  not !     0,  yes,  I'm  English  to  the  backbone,  I  am.     And 


CHARACTER   OF   MR.    ROWLEY  237 

yet  look  at  me  !  I  got  hold  of  this  'ere  William  Wallace 
and  took  to  him  right  off ;  I  never  heard  of  such  n  man 
before!  And  then  you  came  along,  and  I  took  to  you. 
And  both  the  two  of  you  were  my  born  enemies  !  I — I  beg 
your  pardon,  Mr.  Ramornie,  but  would  you  mind  it  very 
much  if  you  didn't  go  for  to  do  anything  against  England  " 
— he  brought  the  word  out  suddenly,  like  something  hot — 
^'  when  I  was  along  of  you  ?" 

I  was  more  affected  than  I  can  tell. 

^^  Rowley, '' I  said,  '^^you  need  have  no  fear.  By  how 
much  I  love  my  own  honour,  by  so  much  I  will  take  care 
to  protect  yours.  We  are  but  fraternising  at  the  outposts, 
as  soldiers  do.  When  the  bugle  calls,  my  boy,  we  must 
face  each  other,  one  for  England,  one  for  France,  and  may 
God  defend  the  right ! " 

So  I  spoke  at  the  moment ;  but  for  all  my  brave  airs,  the 
boy  had  wounded  me  in  a  vital  quarter.  His  words  con- 
tinued to  ring  in  my  hearing.  There  was  no  remission  all 
day  of  my  remorseful  thoughts  ;  and  that  night  (which  we 
lay  at  Lichfield,  I  believe)  there  was  no  sleep  for  me  in  my 
bed.  I  put  out  the  candle  and  lay  down  with  a  good  reso- 
lution ;  and  in  a  moment,  all  was  light  about  me  like  a 
tlieatre,  and  I  saw  myself  upon  the  stage  of  it,  playing  ig- 
noble parts.  I  remembered  France  and  my  Emperor,  now 
depending  on  the  arbitrament  of  war,  bent  down,  fighting 
on  their  knees  and  with  their  teeth  against  so  many  and 
such  various  assailants.  And  I  burned  with  shame  to  be 
here  in  England,  cherishing  an  English  fortune,  pursuing 
an  English  mistress,  and  not  there,  to  handle  a  musket  in 
my  native  fields,  and  to  manure  them  with  my  body  if  I 
fell.  I  remembered  that  I  belonged  to  France.  All  my 
fathers  had^  fought  for  her,  and  some  had  died  ;  the  voice 
in  my  throat,  the  sight  of  my  eyes,  the  tears  that  now 
sprang  there,  the  whole  man    of   me,    was   fashioned   of 


238  ST.  IVES 

French  earth  and  born  of  a  French  mother ;  I  had  been 
tended  and  caressed  by  a  succession  of  the  daughters  of 
France,  the  fairest,  the  most  ill-starred  ;  and  I  had  fought 
and  conquered  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  her  sons.  A  sol- 
dier, a  noble,  of  the  proudest  and  bravest  race  in  Europe, 
it  had  been  left  to  the  prattle  of  a  hobbledehoy  lackey  in 
an  English  chaise  to  recall  me  to  the  consciousness  of 
duty. 

When  I  saw  how  it  was,  I  did  not  lose  time  in  indeci- 
sion. The  old  classical  conflict  of  love  and  honour  being 
once  fairly  before  me,  it  did  not  cost  me  a  thouglit.  I  was 
a  Saint- Yves  de  Keroual ;  and  I  decided  to  strike  off  on 
the  morrow  for  Wakefield  and  Burchell  Fenn,  and  embark, 
as  soOn  as  it  should  be  morally  possible,  for  the  succour  of 
my  down-trodden  fatherland  and  my  beleaguered  Em- 
peror. Pursuant  on  this  resolve,  I  leaped  from  bed,  made 
a  light,  and  as  the  watchman  was  crying  half-past  two  in 
the  dark  streets  of  Lichfield,  sat  down  to  pen  a  letter  of 
farewell  to  Flora.  And  then — whether  it  was  the  sudden 
chill  of  the  night,  whether  it  came  by  association  of  ideas 
from  the  remembrance  of  Swanston  Cottage  I  know  not, 
but  there  appeared  before  me— to  the  barking  of  sheep- 
dogs— a  couple  of  snuffy  and  shambling  figures,  each 
wrapped  in  a  plaid,  each  armed  with  a  rude  staff  ;  and  I 
was  immediately  bowed  down  to  have  forgotten  them  so 
long,  and  of  late  to  have  thought  of  them  so  cavalierly. 

Sure  enough  there  was  my  errand  !  As  a  private  person 
I  was  neither  French  nor  English  ;  I  was  something  else 
first :  a  loyal  gentleman,  an  honest  man.  Sim  and  Cand- 
lish  must  not  be  left  to  pay  the  penalty  of  my  unfortunate 
blow.  They  held  my  honour  tacitly  pledged  to  succour 
them  ;  and  it  is  a  sort  of  stoical  refinement  entirely  foreign 
to  my  nature  to  set  the  political  obligation  above  the  per- 
sonal and  private.     If  France  fell  in   the  interval  for  the 


1 


CHARACTER   OF   MR.    ROWLEY  230 

lack  of  Anne  de  Saint- Yves,  fall  she  must !  But  I  was  both 
surprised  and  humiliated  to  have  had  so  plain  a  duty  bound 
upon  me  for  so  long — and  for  so  long  to  have  neglected  and 
forgotten  it.  I  think  any  brave  man  will  understand  me 
when  I  say  that  I  went  to  bed  and  to  sleep  with  a  con- 
science very  much  relieved,  and  woke  again  in  the  morn- 
ing with  a  light  heart.  The  very  danger  of  the  enterprise 
reassured  me  :  to  save  Sim  and  Candlish  (suppose  the  worst 
to  come  to  the  worst)  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  de- 
clare myself  in  a  court  of  justice,  Avith  consequences  which 
I  did  not  dare  to  dwell  upon  ;  it  could  never  be  said  tliat  I 
had  chosen  the  cheap  and  the  easy, — only  that  in  a  very 
perplexing  competition  of  duties  I  had  risked  my  life  for 
the  most  immediate. 

We  resumed  the  journey  with  more  diligence  :  thence- 
forward posted  day  and  night;  did  not  halt  beyond  what 
was  necessary  for  meals  ;  and  the  postilions  were  excited 
by  gratuities,  after  the  habit  of  my  cousin  Alain.  For 
twopence  I  could  have  gone  further  and  taken  four  horses  ; 
so  extreme  was  my  haste,  running  as  I  was  before  the  ter- 
rors of  an  awakened  conscience.  But  I  feared  to  be  con- 
spicuous. Even  as  it  was,  we  attracted  only  too  much 
attention,  with  our  pair  and  that  white  elephant,  the  sev- 
enty-pounds-worth of  claret-coloured  chaise. 

Meanwhile,  I  was  ashamed  to  look  Rowley  in  the  face. 
The  young  shaver  had  contrived  to  put  me  wholly  in  the 
wrong ;  he  had  cost  me  a  night's  rest  and  a  severe  and 
healthful  humiliation  ;  and  I  was  grateful  and  embarrassed 
in  his  society.  This  would  never  do  ;  it  was  contrary  to 
all  my  ideas  of  discipline  :  if  the  officer  has  to  blush  before 
the  private,  or  the  master  before  the  servant,  nothing  is 
left  to  hope  for  but  discharge  or  death.  I  hit  upon  the 
idea  of  teaching  him  French  ;  and  accordingly,  from  Lich- 
field, I  became  the  distracted  master,  and  he  the  scholar — 


240  ST.    lYES 

how  shall  I  say  ?  indefatigable,  but  uninspired.  His  in- 
terest never  flagged.  He  would  hear  the  same  word  twenty 
times  with  profound  refreshment,  mispronounce  it  in  sev- 
eral different  ways,  and  forget  it  again  with  magical  celer- 
ity. Say,  it  happened  to  be  stirrup.  ''  Xo,  I  don't  seem 
to  remember  that  word,  Mr.  Anne,''  he  would  say  :  "  it 
don't  seem  to  stick  to  me,  that  word  don't."  And  then, 
when  I  had  told  it  him  again,  "  Etrier!  "  he  would  cry. 
''  To  be  sure  I  I  had  it  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue.  Eterier  !  " 
(going  wrong  already,  as  if  by  a  fatal  instinct).  ''  What 
will  I  remember  it  by,  now  ?  Why,  interior,  to  be  sure  ! 
I'll  remember  it  by  its  being  something  that  ain't  in  the 
interior  of  a  horse."  And  when  next  I  had  occasion  to 
ask  him  the  French  for  stirrup,  it  was  a  toss-up  whether 
he  had  forgotten  all  about  it,  or  gave  me  exterior  for  an 
answer.  He  was  never  a  hair  discouraged.  He  seemed  to 
consider  that  he  was  covering  the  ground  at  a  normal  rate. 
He  came  up  smiling,  day  after  day.  "  Xow,  sir,  shall  we 
do  our  French?  "  he  would  say  ;  and  I  would  put  ques- 
tions, and  elicit  copious  commentary  and  explanation,  but 
never  tlie  shadow  of  an  answer.  My  hands  fell  to  my  sides  ; 
I  could  have  wept  to  hear  him.  When  I  reflected  that  he 
had  as  3^et  learned  nothing,  and  what  a  vast  deal  more 
there  was  for  him  to  learn,  the  j^criod  of  these  lessons 
seemed  to  unroll  before  me  vast  as  eternity,  and  I  saw  my- 
self a  teacher  of  a  hundred,  and  Eowley  a  pupil  of  ninety, 
still  hammering  on  the  rudiments  I  The  wretched  boy, 
I  should  say,  was  quite  unspoiled  by  the  inevitable  famili- 
arities of  the  journey.  He  turned  out  at  each  stage  the 
pink  of  serving-lads,  deft,  civil,  prompt,  attentive,  touch- 
ing his  hat  like  an  automaton,  raising  the  status  of  Mr. 
Eamornie  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  inn  by  his  smiling  service, 
and  seeming  capable  of  anything  in  the  world  but  the  one 
thing  I  had  chosen — learning  French  ! 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE   ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RUNAWAY   COUPLE 

The  country  had  for  some  time  back  been  changing  in 
character.  By  a  thousand  indications  I  could  judge  that  I 
was  again  drawing  near  to  Scotland.  I  saw  it  written  in 
the  face  of  the  hills,  in  the  growth  of  the  trees,  and  in  the 
glint  of  the  waterbrooks  that  kept  the  high  road  company. 
It  might  have  occurred  to  me,  also,  that  I  was,  at  the  same 
time,  approaching  a  place  of  some  fame  in  Britain — Gretna 
Green.  Over  the  same  leagues  of  road— which  Rowley 
and  I  now  traversed  in  the  claret-coloured  chaise,  to  the 
note  of  the  flageolet  and  the  French  lesson — how  many 
pairs  of  lovers  had  gone  bowling  northward  to  the  music 
of  sixteen  scampering  horseshoes  ;  and  how  many  irate 
persons,  parents,  uncles,  guardians,  evicted  rivals,  had 
come  tearing  after,  clapping  the  frequent  red  face  to  the 
chaise-window,  lavishly  shedding  their  gold  about  the  post- 
houses,  sedulously  loading  and  re-loading,  as  they  went, 
their  avenging  pistols  !  But  I  doubt  if  I  had  thought  of 
it  at  all,  before  a  wayside  hazard  swept  me  into  the  thick  of 
an  adventure  of  this  nature  ;  and  I  found  myself  playing 
providence  with  other  people's  lives,  to  my  own  admiration 
at  the  moment— and  subsequently  to  my  own  brief  but  pas- 
sionate regret. 

At  rather  an  ugly  corner  of  an  up-hill  reach,  I  came  on 
the  wreck  of  a  chaise  lying  on  one  side  in  the  ditch,  a  man 
and  a  woman  in  animated  discourse  in  the  middle  of  the 
10  HI 


242  ST.  IVES 

road,  and  the  two  postilions,  each  with  his  pair  of  horses, 
looking  on  and  laughing  from  the  saddle. 

''  Morning  breezes  !  here's  a  smash  ! "  cried  Kowley, 
pocketing  his  flageolet  in  the  middle  of  the  TiffJit  Little 
Island. 

I  was  perhaps  more  conscious  of  the  moral  smash  than 
the  physical — more  alive  to  broken  hearts  than  to  broken 
chaises ;  for,  as  plain  as  the  sun  at  morning,  there  was  a 
screw  loose  in  this  runaway  match.  It  is  always  a  bjid 
sign  when  the  low^er  classes  laugh  :  their  taste  in  humour 
is  both  poor  and  sinister  ;  and  for  a  man  running  the 
posts  with  four  horses,  presumably  with  open  pockets,  and 
in  the  company  of  the  most  entrancing  little  creature  con- 
ceivable, to  have  come  down  so  far  as  to  be  laughed  at  by 
his  own  postilions,  was  only  to  be  explained  on  the  double 
hypothesis,  that  he  was  a  fool,  and  no  gentleman. 

I  have  said  they  were  man  and  woman.  I  should  have 
said  man  and  child.  She  was  certainly  not  more  than  sev- 
enteen, pretty  as  an  angel,  just  plump  enough  to  damn  a 
saint,  and  dressed  in  A'arious  shades  of  blue,  from  her 
stockings  to  her  saucy  cap,  in  a  kind  of  taking  gamut,  the 
top  note  of  which  she  flung  me  in  a  beam  from  her  too 
appreciative  eye.  There  was  no  doubt  about  the  case  :  I 
saw  it  all.  From  a  boarding  school,  a  black-board,  a  piano, 
and  dementi's  Sonatinas,  the  child  had  made  a  rash  ad- 
venture upon  life  in  the  company  of  a  half-bred  hawbuck  ; 
and  she  was  already  not  only  regretting  it,  but  expressing 
her  regret  with  point  and  pungency. 

As  I  alighted,  they  both  paused  with  that  unmistakable 
air  of  being  interrupted  in  a  scene.  I  uncovered  to  the 
lady,  and  placed  my  services  at  their  disposal. 

It  was  the  man  who  answered.  ^^  There's  no  use  in 
shamming,  sir,"  said  he.  "  This  lady  and  I  have  run 
away,  and  her  father's  after  us  :  road  to  Gretna,  sir.     And 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   RUNAWAY    COUPLE       Sil' 

here  have   these   nincompoops   spilt  ns  in  the  ditch  and 
smashed  the  chaise  !  " 

*^  Very  provoking,"  said  I. 

''  I  don't  know  when  I've  heen  so  provoked  !  "  cried  he, 
with  a  glance  down  the  road  of  mortal  terror. 

^^The  father  is  no  donbt  very  much  incensed  ?"  I  pur- 
sued, civilly. 

''  0  God  ! "  cried  the  hawbuck.  ^'  In  short,  you  see,  we 
must  get  out  of  this.  And  Til  tell  you  what— it  may  seem 
cool,  but  necessity  has  no  law — if  you  would  lend  us  your 
chaise  to  the  next  post-house,  it  would  be  the  very  thing, 
sir." 

''  I  confess  it  seems  cool,"  I  replied. 

''  What's  that  you  say,  sir  ?"  he  snapped. 

''  I  was  agreeing  with  you,"  said  I.  ''  Yes,  it  does  seem 
cool ;  and  what  is  more  to  the  point,  it  seems  unnecessary. 
This  thing  can  be  arranged  in  a  more  satisfactory  manner 
otherwise,  I  think.     You  can  doubtless  ride  ?  " 

This  opened  a  door  on  the  matter  of  their  previous  dis- 
pute, and  the  fellow  appeared  life-sized  in  his  true  colours. 
'^That's  what  I've  been  telling  her  :  that,  damn  her  !  she 
must  ride  ! "  he  broke  out.  "  And  if  the  gentleman's  of 
the  same  mind,  why,  damme,  you  shall ! " 

As  he  said  so,  he  made  a  snatch  at  her  wrist,  which  she 
evaded  with  horror. 

I  stepped  between  them. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  I,  ^'the  lady  shall  not." 

He  turned  on  me  raging.  "  And  who  are  you  to  inter- 
fere ?  "  he  roared. 

''  There  is  here  no  question  of  who  I  am,"  I  replied.  "  I 
may  be  the  devil  or  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  for  what 
you  know,  or  need  know.  The  point  is  that  I  can  help 
you— it  appears  that  nobody  else  can  ;  and  I  will  tell  you 
how  I  propose  to  do  it.     I  will  give  the  lady  a  seat  in  my 


244  ST.  IVES 

chaise,  if  you  will  return  the  compliment  by  allowing  my 
servant  to  ride  one  of  your  horses/' 

I  thought  he  would  have  sprung  at  my  throat. 

**  You  have  always  the  alternative  before  you  :  to  wait 
here  for  the  arrival  of  papa/'  I  added. 

And  that  settled  him.  He  cast  another  haggard  look 
down  the  road,  and  capitulated. 

*'l  am  sure,  sir,  the  lady  is  very  much  obliged  to  you," 
he  said,  with  an  ill  grace. 

I  gave  her  my  hand  ;  she  mounted  like  a  bird  into  the 
chaise  ;  Rowley,  grinning  from  ear  to  ear,  closed  the  door 
behind  us  ;  the  two  impudent  rascals  of  post-boys  cheered 
and  laughed  aloud  as  we  drove  off  ;  and  my  own  postilion 
urged  his  horses  at  once  into  a  rattling  trot.  It  was  plain 
I  was  supposed  by  all  to  have  done  a  very  dashing  act,  and 
ravished  the  bride  from  the  ravisher. 

In  the  meantime  I  stole  a  look  at  the  little  lady.  She 
was  in  a  state  of  pitiable  discomposure,  and  her  arms  shook 
on  her  lap  in  her  black  lace  mittens. 

''Madam ''  I  began. 

And  she,  in  the  same  moment,  finding  her  voice  :  ''  0, 
what  you  must  think  of  me  !  " 

*' Madam,'' said  I,  ''what  must  any  gentleman  think, 
when  he  sees  youth,  beauty  and  innocence  in  distress  ?  I 
wish  I  could  tell  you  that  I  was  old  enough  to  be  your 
father  ;  I  think  we  must  give  that  up,"  I  continued,  with 
a  smile.  "  But  I  will  tell  you  something  about  myself 
which  ought  to  do  as  well,  and  to  set  that  little  heart  at 
rest  in  my  society.  I  am  a  lover.  May  I  say  it  of  myself — 
for  I  am  not  quite  used  to  all  the  niceties  of  English — that 
I  am  a  true  lover  ?  There  is  one  whom  I  admire,  adore, 
obey  ;  she  is  no  less  good  than  she  is  beautiful  ;  if  she  Avere 
here,  she  would  take  you  to  her  arms  :  conceive  that  she  has 
sent  me — that  she  has  said  to  me,  '  Go,  be  her  knight ! '  " 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RUNAWAY   COUPLE       245 

*'  0,  I  know  she  must  be  sweet,  I  know  she  must  be 
worthy  of  you  ! ''  cried  the  little  lady.  ''  She  would  never 
forget  female  decorum — nor  make  the  terrible  erratum 
I've  done  ! " 

And  at  this  she  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept. 

This  did  not  forward  matters  :  it  was  in  vain  that  I 
begged  her  to  be  more  composed  and  to  tell  me  a  plain, 
consecutive  tale  of  her  misadventures ;  but  she  continued 
instead  to  pour  forth  the  most  extraordinary  mixture  of 
the  correct  school  miss  and  the  poor  untutored  little  piece 
of  womanhood  in  a  false  position — of  engrafted  pedantry 
and  incoherent  nature. 

^'^  I  am  certain  it  must  have  been  judicial  blindness,"  she 
sobbed.  "  I  can^t  think  how  I  didn't  see  it,  but  I  didn't ; 
and  he  isn't,  is  he  ?  And  then  a  curtain  rose  .  . 
0,  what  a  moment  was  that  !  But  I  knew  at  once  that 
you  were  ;  you  had  but  to  appear  from  your  carriage,  and 
I  knew  it.  0,  she  must  be  a  fortunate  young  lady  !  And 
I  have  no  fear  with  you,  none — a  perfect  confidence." 

''  Madam,"  said  I,  ^'  a  gentleman." 

'"'  That's  what  I  mean — a  gentleman,"  she  exclaimed. 
^'  And  he — and  that — lie  isn't.  0,  how  shall  I  dare  meet 
father  ! "  And  disclosing  to  me  her  tear-stained  face,  and 
oi^ening  her  arms  with  a  tragic  gesture  :  '■^  And  I  am  quite 
disgraced  before  all  the  young  ladies,  my  school  compan- 
ions ! "  she  added. 

^'^  0,  not  so  bad  as  that  !  "  I  cried.     ^'Come,  come,  you 

exaggerate,  my  dear  Miss ?     Excuse  me  if  I  am  too 

familiar  :  I  have  not  yet  heard  your  name." 

''My  name  is  Dorothy  Greensleeves,  sir  :  why  should  I 
conceal  it  ?  I  fear  it  will  only  serve  to  point  an  adage  to 
future  generations,  and  I  had  meant  so  differently  !  There 
was  no  young  female  in  the  county  more  emulous  to  be 
thought  well  of  than  I.     And  what  a  fall  was  there  !     0, 


246  ST.  IVES 

dear  me,  what  a  wicked,  piggish  donkey  of  a  girl  I  have 
made  of  myself,  to  be  sure  !  And  there  is  no  hope  !  0, 
Mr. " 

And  at  that  she  paused  and  asked  my  name. 

I  am  not  writing  my  eulogium  for  the  Academy  ;  I  will 
admit  it  was  unpardonably  imbecile,  but  I  told  it  her.  If 
you  had  been  there — and  seen  her,  ravishingly  pretty  and 
little,  a  baby  in  years  and  mind — and  heard  her  talking 
like  a  book,  with  so  much  of  schoolroom  propriety  in  her 
manner,  with  such  an  innocent  despair  in  the  matter — you 
would  probably  have  told  her  yours.  She  repeated  it  after 
me. 

''  I  shall  pray  for  you  all  my  life,"'  she  said.  *^  Every 
night,  when  I  retire  to  rest,  the  last  thing  I  shall  do  is  to 
remember  you  by  name." 

Presently  I  succeeded  in  winning  from  her  her  tale, 
which  was  much  what  I  had  anticipated  :  a  tale  of  a 
schoolhouse,  a  walled  garden,  a  fruit-tree  that  concealed  a 
bench,  an  impudent  raff  posturing  in  church,  an  exchange 
of  flowers  and  vows  over  the  garden  wall,  a  silly  schoolmate 
for  a  confidante,  a  chaise  and  four,  and  the  most  immedi- 
ate and  perfect  disenchantment  on  the  part  of  the  little 
lady.  ^'  And  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  !  "  she  wailed  in 
conclusion.  ^'  My  error  is  irretrievable,  I  am  quite  forced 
to  that  conclusion.  0,  Monsieur  de  Saint-Yves  !  AVho 
would  have  thought  that  I  could  have  been  such  a  blind, 
wicked  donkey  ! " 

I  should  have  said  before — only  that  I  really  do  not 
know  when  it  came  in — that  we  had  been  overtaken  by  the 
two  post-boys,  Eowley  and  Mr.  Bellamy,  which  was  the 
hawbuck's  name,  bestriding  the  four  post-horses  ;  and  that 
these  formed  a  sort  of  cavalry  escort,  riding  now  before, 
now  behind  the  chaise,  and  Bellamy  occasionally  posturing 
at  the  window  and  obliging  us  with  some  of  his  conversa- 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RUNAWAY   COUPLE        '241 

tion.  He  was  so  ill  received  that  I  declare  I  was  temjited 
to  pity  liim,  remembering  from  what  a  height  he  had 
fallen,  and  how  few  hours  ago  it  Avas  since  the  lady  had 
herself  fled  to  his  arms,  all  blushes  and  ardour.  Well, 
these  great  strokes  of  fortune  usually  befall  the  unworthy, 
and  Bellamy  was  now  the  legitimate  object  of  my  com- 
miseration and  the  ridicule  of  his  own  post-boys  ! 

"  Miss  Dorothy/^  said  I,  "  you  wish  to  be  delivered 
from  this  man  ?" 

"  0,  if  it  were  possible  ! "  she  cried.  '^  But  not  by  vio- 
lence."' 

"Not  in  the  least,  ma'am,"  I  replied.  "The  simplest 
thing  in  life.  We  are  in  a  civilized  country  ;  the  man's  a 
malefactor " 

"0,  never!"  she  cried.  "Do  not  even  dream  it! 
With  all  his  faults,  I  know  he  is  not  fliat/' 

"  Anyway,  he's  in  the  wrong  in  this  affair — on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  law,  call  it  what  you  please,"  said  I ;  and  with 
that,  our  four  horsemen  having  for  the  moment  headed  us  by 
a  considerable  interval,  I  hailed  my  post-boy  and  inquired 
who  was  the  nearest  magistrate  and  wliere  he  lived.  Arch- 
deacon Clitheroe,  he  told  me,  a  prodigious  dignitary,  and 
one  who  lived  but  a  lane  or  two  back,  and  at  the  distance 
of  only  a  mile  or  two  out  of  the  direct  road.  I  showed 
him  the  king's  medallion. 

"  Take  the  lady  there,  and  at  full  gallop,"  I  cried. 

"  Right,  sir  !     Mind  yourself,"  says  the  postilion. 

And  before  I  could  have  thought  it  possible,  he  had 
turned  the  carriage  to  the  right-about  and  we  were  gallop- 
ing south. 

Our  outriders  were  quick  to  remark  and  imitate  the 
manoeuvre,  and  came  flying  after  us  with  a  vast  deal  of 
indiscriminate  shouting  ;  so  that  the  fine,  sober  picture  of 
a  carriage  and  escort,  that  we  had  presented  but  a  moment 


248  ST.  IVES 

back,  was  transformed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  into  the 
image  of  a  noisy  fox-chase.  The  two  postilions  and  my 
own  saucy  rogue  were,  of  course,  disinterested  actors  in 
the  comedy  ;  they  rode  for  the  mere  sport,  keeping  in  a 
body,  their  mouths  full  of  laughter,  waving  their  hats  as 
they  came  on,  and  crying  (as  the  fancy  struck  them) 
'^Tally-ho  I''  ^ SS top  thief  ! ''  ^^A  highwayman  I  A  high- 
wayman ! "  It  was  otherguess  work  with  Bellamy.  That 
gentleman  no  sooner  observed  our  change  of  direction  than 
he  turned  his  horse  with  so  much  violence  that  the  poor 
animal  was  almost  cast  upon  its  side,  and  launched  her  in 
immediate  and  desperate  pursuit.  As  he  approached  I 
saw  that  his  face  was  deadly  Avhite  and  that  he  carried  a 
drawn  pistol  in  his  hand.  I  turned  at  once  to  the  poor 
little  bride  that  was  to  have  been,  and  now^  was  not  to  be  ; 
she,  upon  her  side,  deserting  the  other  window,  turned  as 
if  to  meet  me. 

"0,  0,  don't  let  him  kill  me  !  "  she  screamed. 

^'  Xever  fear,"  I  replied. 

Her  face  was  distorted  with  terror.  Her  hands  took  hold 
upon  me  with  the  instinctive  clutch  of  an  infant.  The 
chaise  gave  a  flying  lurch,  wdiich  took  the  feet  from  under 
me  and  tumbled  us  anyhow  upon  the  seat.  And  almost  in 
the  same  moment  the  head  of  Bellamy  ajopeared  in  the 
window  -which  Missy  had  left  free  for  him. 

Conceive  the  situation  !  The  little  lady  and  I  w^ere  fall- 
ing— or  had  just  fallen — backward  on  the  seat,  and  offered 
to  the  eye  a  somewhat  ambiguous  picture.  The  chaise 
was  speeding  at  a  furious  pace,  and  with  the  most  violent 
leaps  and  lurches,  along  the  highway.  Into  this  bounding 
receptacle  Bellamy  interjected  his  head,  his  pistol  arm, 
and  his  pistol  ;  and  since  his  own  horse  was  travelling  still 
faster  than  the  chaise,  he  must  withdraw  all  of  them  again 
in  the  inside  of  the  fraction  of  a  minute.     He  did  so,  but 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RUNAWAY    COUPLE        249 

he  left  the  charge  of  the  pistol  behind  him — whether  by 
design  or  accident  I  shall  never  know,  and  I  daresay  he 
has  forgotten  !  Probably  he  had  only  meant  to  threaten, 
in  hopes  of  causing  ns  to  arrest  our  flight.  In  the  same 
moment  came  the  explosion  and  a  pitiful  cry  from  Missy ; 
and  my  gentleman,  making  certain  he  had  struck  her, 
went  down  the  road  pursued  by  the  furies,  turned  at  the 
first  corner,  took  a  flying  leap  over  the  thorn  hedge,  and 
disappeared  across  country  in  the  least  possible  time. 

Rowley  was  ready  and  eager  to  pursue  ;  but  I  withheld 
him,  thinking  we  were  excellently  quit  of  Mr.  Bellamy,  at 
no  more  cost  than  a  scratch  on  the  forearm  and  a  bullet- 
hole  in  the  left-hand  claret-coloured  panel.  And  accord- 
ingly, but  now  at  a  more  decent  pace,  we  proceeded  on  our 
way  to  Archdeacon  Clitheroe's.  Missy's  gratitude  and  ad- 
miration were  aroused  to  a  high  pitch  by  this  dramatic 
scene,  and  what  she  was  pleased  to  call  my  wound.  She 
must  dress  it  for  me  with  her  handkerchief,  a  service 
which  she  rendered  me  even  with  tears.  I  could  well  have 
spared  them,  not  loving  on  the  whole  to  be  made  ridiculous, 
and  the  injury  being  in  the  nature  of  a  cat's  scratch.  In- 
deed, I  would  have  suggested  for  her  kind  care  rather  the 
cure  of  my  coat-sleeve,  which  had  suffered  worse  in  the 
encounter ;  but  I  was  too  wise  to  risk  the  anti-climax. 
That  she  had  been  rescued  by  a  hero,  that  the  hero  should 
have  been  wounded  in  the  affray,  and  his  wound  bandaged 
with  her  handkerchief  (which  it  could  not  even  bloody), 
ministered  incredibly  to  the  recovery  of  her  self-respect ; 
and  I  could  hear  her  relate  the  incident  to  ''the  young 
ladies,  my  school-companions,"  in  the  most  approved  man- 
ner of  Mrs.  Radcliffe  !  To  have  insisted  on  the  torn  coat- 
sleeve  would  have  been  unmannerly,  if  not  inhuman. 

Presently  the  residence  of  the  archdeacon  began  to  heave 
in  sight.     A  chaise  and  four  smoking  horses  stood  by  the 


250  ST.    IVES 

steps,  and  made  way  for  us  on  our  approach  ;  and  even  as 
we  alighted  there  appeared  from  the  interior  of  the  house 
a  tall  ecclesiastic,  and  beside  him  a  little,  headstrong, 
ruddy  man,  in  a  towering  passion  and  brandishing  over 
his  head  a  roll  of  paper.  At  sight  of  him  Miss  Dorothy 
flung  herself  on  her  knees  with  the  most  moving  adjura- 
tions, calling  him  father,  assuring  him  she  was  wholly 
cured  and  entirely  repentant  of  her  disobedience,  and  en- 
treating forgiveness  ;  and  I  soon  saw  that  she  need  fear  no 
great  severity  from  Mr.  Greensleeves,  who  showed  himself 
extraordinarily  fond,  loud,  greedy  of  caresses  and  prodigal 
of  tears. 

To  give  myself  a  countenance,  as  well  as  to  have  all 
ready  for  the  road  when  I  should  find  occasion,  I  turned 
to  quit  scores  with  Bellamy's  two  postilions.  They  had 
not  the  least  claim  on  me,  but  one  of  which  they  were 
quite  ignorant — that  I  was  a  fugitive.  It  is  the  worst 
feature  of  that  false  position  that  every  gratuity  becomes  a 
case  of  conscience.  You  must  not  leave  behind  you  any 
one  discontented  nor  any  one  grateful.  But  the  whole 
business  had  been  such  a  'Miurrah-boys"  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  had  gone  off  in  the  fifth  act  so  like  a  melodrama, 
in  explosions,  reconciliations,  and  tlie  rape  of  a  post-horse, 
that  it  was  plainly  impossible  to  keep  it  covered.  It  was 
plain  it  would  have  to  be  talked  over  in  all  the  inn-kitchens 
for  thirty  miles  about,  and  likely  for  six  months  to  come. 
It  only  remained  for  me,  therefore,  to  settle  on  that 
gratuity  which  should  be  least  conspicuous — so  large  that 
nobody  could  grumble,  so  small  that  nobody  would  be 
tempted  to  boast.  My  decision  was  hastily  and  not  wisely 
taken.  The  one  fellow  spat  on  his  tip  (so  he  called  it)  for 
luck ;  the  other,  developing  a  sudden  streak  of  piety, 
prayed  God  bless  me  with  fervour.  It  seemed  a  demon- 
stration was  brewing,  and  I  determined  to  be  off  at  once. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    RUNAWAY    COUPLE       251 

Bidding  my  own  post-boy  and  Rowley  be  in  readiness  for 
an  immediate  start,  I  reascended  the  terrace  and  presented 
myself,  hat  in  hand,  before  Mr.  Greensleeves  and  the  arch- 
deacon. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  I  trust/'  said  I.  *'  I  think  shame 
to  interrupt  this  agreeable  scene  of  family  effusion,  which 
I  have  been  privileged  in  some  small  degree  to  bring 
about.'' 

And  at  these  words  the  storm  broke. 

"  Small  degree  !  small  degree,  sir  !  "  cries  the  father  ; 
"  that  shall  not  pass,  Mr.  St.  Eaves  !  If  I've  got  my 
darling  back,  and  none  the  worse  for  that  vagabone  rascal, 
I  know  whom  I  have  to  thank.  Shake  hands  with  me — 
up  to  the  elbows,  sir  !  A  Frenchman  you  may  be,  bat 
you're  one  of  the  right  breed,  by  God  !  And,  by  God, 
sir,  you  may  have  anything  you  care  to  ask  of  me,  down 
to  Dolly's  hand,  by  God  !  " 

All  this  he  roared  out  in  a  voice  surprisingly  powerful 
from  so  small  a  person.  Every  word  was  thus  audible  to 
the  servants,  who  had  followed  them  out  of  the  house  and 
now  congregated  about  us  on  the  terrace,  as  well  as  to 
Rowley  and  the  five  postilions  on  the  gravel  sweep  below. 
The  sentiments  expressed  were  popular  ;  some  ass,  whom 
the  devil  moved  to  be  my  enemy,  proposed  three  cheers, 
and  they  were  given  with  a  will.  To  hear  my  own  name 
resounding  amid  acclamations  in  the  hills  of  Westmoreland 
was  flattering,  perhaps  ;  but  it  was  inconvenient  at  a  mo- 
ment when  (as  I  was  morally  persuaded)  police  handbills 
were  already  speeding  after  me  at  the  rate  of  a  hundred 
miles  a  day. 

Nor  was  that  the  end  of  it.  The  archdeacon  must  pre- 
sent his  compliments,  and  press  upon  me  some  of  his 
West  India  sherry,  and  I  was  carried  into  a  vastly  fine 
library,  where  I  was  presented  to  his  lady  wife.     While 


252  ST.  IVES 

we  were  at  sherry  in  the  library,  ale  was  handed  round 
upon  the  terrace.  Speeches  were  made,  hands  were  shak- 
en. Missy  (at  her  father's  request)  kissed  me  farewell,  and 
the  whole  party  reaccompanied  me  to  the  terrace,  where 
they  stood  waving  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and  crying  fare- 
wells to  all  the  echoes  of  the  mountains  until  the  chaise 
had  disappeared. 

The  echoes  of  the  mountains  were  engaged  in  saying  to 
me  privately  :  "You  fool,  you  have  done  it  now  !" 

"  They  do  seem  to  have  got  'old  of  your  name,  Mr. 
Anne,''  said  Rowley.     "  It  weren't  my  fault  this  time." 

**  It  was  one  of  those  accidents  that  can  never  be  fore- 
seen," said  I,  affecting  a  dignity  that  I  was  far  from  feel- 
ing.    *'  Some  one  recognised  me." 

**  Which  on  'em,  Mr.  Anne  ?"  said  the  rascal. 

*'  That  is  a  senseless  question ;  it  can  make  no  differ- 
ence who  it  was,"  I  returned. 

^'  No,  nor  that  it  can't  ! "  cried  Eowley.  "  I  say,  Mr. 
Anne,  sir,  it's  what  you  would  call  a  jolly  mess,  ain't  it  ? 
looks  like  '  clean  bowled  out  in  the  middle  stump,'  don't 
it  ?  " 

"I  fail  to  understand  you,  Rowley." 

*'  Well,  what  I  mean  is,  what  are  we  to  do  about  this 
one  ?  "  pointing  to  the  postilion  in  front  of  us,  as  he  al- 
ternately hid  and  revealed  his  patched  breeches  to  the  trot 
of  his  horse.  "  He  see  you  get  in  this  morning  under  Mr. 
Ramornie — I  was  very  piticular  to  Mr.  Ramoniie  you,  if 
you  remember,  sir — and  he  see  you  get  in  again  under  Mr. 
Saint  Eaves,  and  Avhatever's  he  going  to  see  you  get  out 
under  ?  that's  what  worries  me,  sir.  It  don't  seem  to  me 
like  as  if  the  position  was  what  you  call  stratetegic  I " 

"  ParrrUeio!  will  you  let  me  be  ! "  I  cried.  "I  have 
to  think  ;  you  cannot  imagine  how  your  constant  idiotic 
prattle  annoys  me." 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RUNAWAY   COUPLE        253 

''  Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Anne/'  said  he  ;  and  the  next  mo- 
ment, ''  You  wouldn't  like  for  us  to  do  our  French  now, 
would  you,  Mr.  Anne  ?  " 

''  Certainly  not,"  said  I.     "  Play  upon  your  flageolet." 

The  which  he  did,  with  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  irony. 

Conscience  doth  make  cowards  of  us  all  !  I  was  so 
downcast  by  my  pitiful  mismanagement  of  the  morning's 
business,  that  I  shrank  from  the  eye  of  my  own  hired  in- 
fant, and  read  offensive  meanings  into  his  idle  tootling. 

I  took  off  my  coat,  and  set  to  mending  it,  soldier-fash- 
ion, with  a  needle  and  thread.  There  is  nothing  more 
conducive  to  thought,  above  all  in  arduous  circumstances  ; 
and  as  I  sewed,  I  gradually  gained  a  clearness  upon  my 
affairs.  I  must  be  done  with  the  claret-coloured  chaise  at 
once.  It  should  be  sold  at  the  next  stage  for  what  it  would 
bring.  Eowley  and  I  must  take  back  to  the  road  on  our 
four  feet,  and  after  a  decent  interval  of  trudging,  get 
places  on  some  coach  for  Edinburgh  again  under  new 
names !  So  much  trouble  and  toil,  so  much  extra  risk 
and  expense  and  loss  of  time,  and  all  for  a  slip  of  the 
tongue  to  a  little  lady  in  blue  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   IKN-KEEPER   OF   KIRKBY-LONSDALE 

I  HAD  hitherto  conceived  and  partly  carried  out  an  ideal 
that  was  dear  to  ni}^  heart.  Rowley  and  I  descended  from 
our  claret-coloured  chaise,  a  couple  of  correctly  dressed, 
brisk,  bright-eyed  young  fellows,  like  a  pair  of  aristocratic 
mice  ;  attending  singly  to  our  own  affairs,  communicating 
solely  with  each  other,  and  that  with  the  niceties  and  civ- 
ilities of  drill.  We  would  pass  through  the  little  crowd 
before  the  door  with  high-bred  preoccupation,  inoffensively 
haughty,  after  the  best  English  pattern  ;  and  disappear 
within,  followed  by  the  envy  and  admiration  of  the  by- 
standers, a  model  master  and  servant,  point-device  in  every 
part.  It  was  a  heavy  thought  to  me,  as  we  drew  up  before 
the  inn  at  Kirkby-Lonsdale,  that  this  scene  was  now  to  be 
enacted  for  the  last  time.  Alas  I  and  had  I  known  it,  it 
was  to  go  off  with  so  inferior  a  grace  ! 

I  had  been  injudiciously  liberal  to  the  post-boys  of  the 
chaise  and  four.  My  own  post-boy,  he  of  the  patched 
breeches,  now  stood  before  me,  his  eyes  glittering  with 
greed,  his  hand  advanced.  It  was  plain  he  anticipated 
something  extraordinary  by  way  of  a  2J02(rboire  ;  and  con- 
sidering the  marches  and  counter-marches  by  which  I  had 
extended  the  stage,  the  military  character  of  our  affairs 
with  Mr.  Bellamy,  and  the  bad  example  I  had  set  before 
him  at  the  archdeacon's,  something  exceptional  was  cer- 
tainly to  be  done.     But  these  are  always  nice  questions,  to 

254 


THE   INN-KEEPER   OF   KIRKBY-LONSDALE       255 

a  foreigner  above  all  ;  a  shade  too  little  will  suggest  nig- 
gardliness, a  shilling  too  much  smells  of  hush-money. 
Fresh  from  the  scene  at  the  archdeacon's,  and  flushed  by 
the  idea  that  I  was  now  nearly  done  with  the  responsibil- 
ities of  the  claret-coloured  chaise,  I  put  into  his  hands 
five  guineas  ;  and  the  amount  served  only  to  waken  his 
cupidity. 

''  0,  come,  sir,  you  ain't  going  to  fob  me  olf  with  this  ? 
Why,  I  seen  fire  at  your  side  ! "  he  cried. 

It  would  never  do  to  give  him  more ;  I  felt  I  should 
become  the  fable  of  Kirkby-Lonsdale  if  I  did  ;  and  I  looked 
him  in  the  face,  sternly  but  still  smiling,  and  addressed 
him  with  a  voice  of  uncompromising  firmness. 

''  If  you  do  not  like  it,  give  it  back,"  said  I. 

He  pocketed  the  guineas  with  the  quickness  of  a  con- 
jurer, and  like  a  base-born  cockney  as  he  was,  fell  instantly 
to  casting  dirt. 

^'  'Ave  your  own  way  of  it,  Mr.  Eamornie — leastways 
Mr.  St.  Eaves,  or  whatever  your  blessed  name  may  be. 
Look  'ere  " — turning  for  sympathy  to  the  stable-boys — 
''  this  is  a  blessed  business.  Blessed  'ard,  I  calls  it.  'Ere 
I  takes  up  a  blessed  son  of  a  pop-gun  what  calls  hisself  any- 
thing you  care  to  mention,  and  turns  out  to  be  a  blessed 
momiseer  at  the  end  of  it !  'Ere  'ave  I  been  drivin'  of  him 
up  and  down  all  day,  a-carrying  off  of  gals,  a-shootin'  of 
pistyils,  and  a-drinkin'  of  sherry  and  hale  ;  and  wot  does 
he  up  and  give  me  but  a  blank,  blank,  blanketing  blank  !" 

The  fellow's  language  had  become  too  powerful  for  re- 
production, and  I  pass  it  by. 

Meanwhile  I  observed  Eowley  fretting  visibly  at  the  bit ; 
another  moment,  and  he  would  have  added  a  last  touch  of 
the  ridiculous  to  our  arrival  by  coming  to  his  hands  with 
the  postilion. 

^'  Eowley  ! "  cried  I  reprovingly. 


256  ST.  IVES 

Strictly  it  should  have  been  Gammon  ;  but  in  the  hurry 
of  the  moment,  my  fault  (I  can  only  hope)  passed  unper- 
ceived.  At  the  same  time  I  caught  the  eye  of  the  post- 
master. He  was  long  and  lean,  and  brown  and  bilious  ;  he 
had  the  drooping  nose  of  the  humourist,  and  the  quick  at- 
tention of  a  man  of  parts.  He  read  my  embarrassment  in 
a  glance,  stepped  instantly  forward,  sent  the  post-boy  to 
the  right-about  with  half  a  word,  and  was  back  next  mo- 
ment at  my  side. 

"  Dinner  in  a  private  room,  sir  ?  Very  well.  John, 
No.  4  !  What  wine  would  you  care  to  mention  ?  Very 
well,  sir.  Will  you  please  to  order  fresh  horses  ?  Xot, 
sir  ?    Very  well." 

Each  of  these  expressions  was  accompanied  by  something 
in  the  nature  of  a  bow,  and  all  were  prefaced  by  something 
in  the  nature  of  a  smile,  which  I  could  very  well  have 
done  without.  The  man's  politeness  was  from  the  teeth 
outwards  ;  behind  and  within,  I  was  conscious  of  a  perpet- 
ual scrutiny  :  the  scene  at  his  doorstep,  the  random  con- 
fidences of  the  post-boy,  had  not  been  thrown  away  on  this 
observer  ;  and  it  was  under  a  strong  fear  of  coming  trouble 
that  I  was  shown  at  last  into  my  private  room.  I  was  in 
half  a  mind  to  have  put  olf  the  whole  business.  But  the 
truth  is,  now  my  name  had  got  abroad,  my  fear  of  the  mail 
that  was  coming,  and  tlie  handbills  it  should  contain,  had 
waxed  inordinately,  and  I  felt  I  could  never  eat  a  meal  in 
peace  till  I  had  severed  my  connection  with  the  claret- 
coloured  chaise. 

Accordingly,  as  soon  as  I  had  done  with  dinner,  I  sent  my 
compliments  to  the  landlord  and  requested  he  should  take 
a  glass  of  wine  with  me.  He  came  ;  we  exchanged  the  nec- 
essary civilities,  and  presently  I  approached  my  business. 

*'  By-the-bye,"  said  I,  "  we  had  a  brush  down  the  road 
to-day.     I  dare  say  you  may  have  heard  of  it  ?  " 


THE  INN-KEEPER  OF   KIRKBY-LONSDALE       257 

He  nodded. 

''  And  I  was  so  unlucky  as  to  get  a  pistol  ball  in  tlie 
panel  of  my  chaise/^  I  continued,  "  which  makes  it  simply 
useless  to  me.     Do  you  know  any  one  likely  to  bny  ?  " 

''  I  can  well  understand  that/'  said  the  landlord.  "  I  was 
looking  at  it  just  now  ;  it's  as  good  as  ruined,  is  that  chaise. 
General  rule,  people  don't  like  chaises  with  bullet  holes." 

^' Too  much  Romance  of  the  Forest?'^  I  suggested,  re- 
calling my  little  friend  of  'the  morning,  and  what  I  was 
sure  had  been  her  favourite  reading — Mrs.  Radcliffe's  novels. 

''  Just  so,"  said  he.  "  They  may  be  right,  they  may  be 
wrong  ;  I'm  not  the  judge.  But  I  suppose  it's  natural, 
after  all,  for  respectable  people  to  like  things  respectable 
about  them  ;  not  bullet  holes,  nor  puddles  of  blood,  nor 
men  with  aliases." 

I  took  a  glass  of  wine  and  held  it  up  to  the  light  to 
show  that  my  hand  was  steady. 

^^  Yes,"  said  I,  "  I  suppose  so." 

^'You  have  papers,  of  course,  showing  you  are  the 
proper  owner  ?  "  he  inquired. 

''There  is  the  bill,  stamped  and  receipted,"  said  I, 
tossing  it  across  to  him. 

He  looked  at  it. 

"  This  all  you  have  ?  "  he  asked. 

''  It  is  enough,  at  least,"  said  I.  ''  It  shows  you  where 
I  bought  and  what  I  paid  for  it." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "  You  want  some 
paper  of  identification." 

"  To  identify  the  chaise  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Not  at  all  :  to  identify  ijou,"  said  he. 

"My  good   sir,  remember   yourself!"   said   I.     '' Tlie 
title-deeds  of  my  estate  are  in  that  despatch-box  ;  but  you 
do  not  seriously  suppose  that  I  should  allow  you  to  ex- 
amine them  ?" 
17 


258  ST.  IVES 

"  Well,  you  see,  this  paper  proves  that  some  Mr.  Ea- 
moriiie  paid  seventy  guineas  for  a  chaise/'  said  the  fellow. 
"  That's  all  well  and  good  ;  but  who's  to  prove  to  me  that 
you  are  Mr.  Eamornie  ?  " 

^^  Fellow  !"  cried  I. 

"  0,  fellow  as  much  as  you  please  !  "  said  he.  "  Fellow, 
with  all  my  heart  !  That  changes  nothing.  I  am  fellow, 
of  course — obtrusive  fellow,  impudent  fellow,  if  you  like — 
but  who  are  you  ?  I  hear  of  you  with  two  names  ;  I  hear 
of  you  running  away  with  young  ladies,  and  getting 
cheered  for  a  Frenchman,  which  seems  odd  ;  and  one 
thing  I  will  go  bail  for,  that  you  were  in  a  blue  fright  when 
the  post-boy  began  to  tell  tales  at  my  door.  In  short,  sir, 
you  may  be  a  very  good  gentleman;  but  I  don't  know 
enough  about  you,  and  111  trouble  you  for  your  papers,  or 
to  go  before  a  magistrate.  Take  your  choice  ;  if  I'm  not 
fine  enough,  I  hope  the  magistrates  are." 

"  My  good  man,"  I  stammered,  for  though  I  had  found 
my  voice,  I  could  scarce  be  said  to  have  recovered  my 
wits,  ''  this  is  most  unusual,  most  rude.  Is  it  the  custom 
in  Westmoreland  that  gentlemen  should  be  insulted?" 

"  That  depends,"  said  he.  "  When  it's  suspected  that 
gentlemen  are  spies,  it  is  the  custom  ;  and  a  good  custom 
too.  No,  no,"  he  broke  out,  perceiving  me  to  make  a 
movement.  ''  Both  hands  upon  the  table,  my  gentleman  I 
I  want  no  pistol  balls  in  my  chaise  panels." 

''Surely,  sir,  you  do  me  strange  injustice!"  said  I,  now 
the  master  of  myself.  "  You  see  me  sitting  here,  a  monu- 
ment of  tranquillity  :  pray  may  I  help  myself  to  wine  with- 
out umbraging  you  ?  " 

I  took  this  attitude  in  sheer  despair.  I  had  no  plan,  no 
hope.  The  best  I  could  imagine  was  to  spin  the  business 
out  some  minutes  longer,  then  capitulate.  At  least,  I 
would  not  capitulate  one  moment  too  soon. 


THE  INN-KEEPER  OF   KIRKBY-LONSDALE       259 

''  Am  I  to  take  that  for  no  ?  "  he  asked. 

'^Referring  to  your  former  obliging  proposal  V  said  I. 
(( My  good  sir,  you  are  to  take  it,  as  you  say,  for  '  No/ 
Certainly  I  will  not  show  you  my  deeds  ;  certainly  I  will 
not  rise  from  table  and  trundle  out  to  see  your  magistrates. 
I  have  too  much  respect  for  my  digestion,  and  too  little 
curiosity  in  justices  of  the  peace." 

He  leaned  forward,  looked  me  nearly  in  the  face,  and 
reached  out  one  hand  to  the  bell-rope.  "  See  here,  my  fine 
fellow  ! "  said  he.  "  Do  you  see  that  bell-rope  ?  Let  me 
tell  you,  there^s  a  boy  waiting  below  :  one  jingle,  and  he 
goes  to  fetch  the  constable.''^ 

'^'^  Do  3^ou  tell  me  so?"  said  I.  '^AVell,  there's  no 
accounting  for  tastes  !  I  have  a  prejudice  against  the 
society  of  constables,  but  if  it  is  your  fancy  to  have  one  in 

for  the  dessert "   I   shrugged   my   shoulders  lightly. 

"  Really,  you  know,"  I  added,  ''  this  is  vastly  entertaining. 
I  assure  you,  I  am  looking  on,  with  all  the  interest  of  a 
man  of  the  world,  at  the  development  of  your  highly  origi- 
nal character." 

He  continued  to  study  my  face  without  speech,  his  hand 
still  on  the  button  of  the  bell-rope,  his  eyes  in  mine  ;  this 
was  the  decisive  heat.  My  face  seemed  to  myself  to  dislimn 
under  his  gaze,  my  expression  to  change,  the  smile  (with 
which  I  had  begun)  to  degenerate  into  the  grin  of  the  man 
upon  the  rack.  I  was  besides  harassed  with  doubts.  An 
innocent  man,  I  argued,  would  have  resented  the  fellow's 
impudence  an  hour  ago  ;  and  by  my  continued  endurance 
of  the  ordeal,  I  was  simply  signing  and  sealing  my  confes- 
sion ;  in  short,  I  had  reached  the  end  of  my  powers. 

'^  Have  you  any  objection  to  my  putting  my  hands  in  my 
breeches  pockets  ?  "  I  inquired.  "  Excuse  me  mentioning 
it,  but  you  showed  yourself  so  extremely  nervous  a  moment 
back." 


260  ST.    IVES 

My  voice  was  not  all  I  could  have  wished,  but  it  sufficed. 
I  could  hear  it  tremble,  but  the  landlord  apparently  could 
not.  He  turned  away  and  drew  a  long  breath,  and  you 
may  be  sure  I  was  quick  to  follow  his  example. 

"  You^re  a  cool  hand  at  least,  and  that's  the  sort  I  like,'' 
said  he.  "  Be  you  what  you  please,  I'll  deal  square.  I'll 
take  the  chaise  for  a  hundred  pound  down,  and  throw  the 
dinner  in." 

^'^I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  cried,  wholly  mystified  hy  this 
form  of  words. 

'^^  You  pay  me  a  hundred  down,"  he  repeated,  ''and  I'll 
take  the  chaise.  It's  very  little  more  than  it  cost,"  he 
added,  with  a  grin,  ''and  you  know  you  must  get  it  off 
your  hands  somehow." 

I  do  not  know  when  I  have  been  better  entertained  than 
by  this  impudent  proposal.  It  was  broadly  funn}^  and  I 
suppose  the  least  tempting  offer  in  the  world.  For  all  that, 
it  came  very  welcome,  for  it  gave  me  the  occasion  to  laugh. 
This  I  did  with  the  most  complete  abandonment,  till  the 
tears  ran  down  my  cheeks ;  and  ever  and  again,  as  the  fit 
abated,  I  would  get  another  view  of  the  landlord's  face,  and 
go  off  into  another  paroxysm. 

"  You  droll  creature,  you  will  be  the  death  of  me  yet !  " 
I  cried,  drying  my  eyes. 

My  friend  was  now  wholly  disconcerted  ;  he  knew  not 
where  to  look,  nor  yet  what  to  say  ;  and  began  for  the  first 
time  to  conceive  it  possible  he  was  mistaken. 

"You  seem  rather  to  enjoy  a  laugh,  sir,"  said  he. 

"  0,  yes  !  I  am  quite  an  original,"  I  replied,  and  laughed 
again. 

Presently,  in  a  changed  voice,  he  offered  me  twenty 
pounds  for  the  chaise  ;  I  ran  him  up  to  twenty-five,  and 
closed  with  the  offer  :  indeed,  I  was  glad  to  get  anything  ; 
and  if  I  haggled,  it  was  not  in  the  desire  of  gaiu,  but  with 


THE   INN-KEEPER   OF   KIKKBY-LONSDALE        261 

the  view  at  any  price  of  securing  a  safe  retreat.  For, 
although  hostilities  Avere  suspended,  he  was  yet  far  from 
satisfied  ;  and  I  could  read  his  continued  suspicions  in  the 
cloudy  eye  that  still  hovered  about  my  face.  At  hist  they 
took  shape  in  words. 

"'  This  is  all  very  well/''  says  he  :  "  you  carry  it  oil  well ; 
but  for  all  that,  I  must  do  my  duty." 

I  had  my  strong  effect  in  reserve  ;  it  was  to  burn  my 
ships  with  a  vengeance  !  I  rose.  "  Leave  the  room,"  said 
I.  "  This  is  insuiferable.  Is  the  man  mad  ?"  And  then, 
as  if  already  half  ashamed  of  my  passion  :  "  I  can  take  a  joke 
as  well  as  any  one,"  I  added  ;  "  but  this  passes  measure. 
Send  my  servant  and  the  bill." 

When  he  had  left  me  alone,  I  considered  my  own  valour 
with  amazement.  I  had  insulted  him  ;  I  had  sent  him 
away  alone  ;  now,  if  ever,  he  would  take  what  was  the  only 
sensible  resource,  and  fetch  the  constable.  But  there  was 
something  instinctively  treacherous  about  the  man,  which 
shrank  from  plain  courses.  And,  with  all  his  cleverness, 
he  missed  the  occasion  of  fame.  Kowley  and  I  were  suffered 
to  walk  out  of  his  door,  with  all  our  baggage,  on  foot,  with 
no  destination  named,  except  in  the  vague  statement  that 
we  were  come  ''  to  view  the  lakes  "  ;  and  my  friend  only 
watched  our  departure  with  his  chin  in  his  hand,  still 
moodily  irresolute. 

I  think  this  one  of  my  great  successes.  I  was  exposed, 
unmasked,  summoned  to  do  a  perfectly  natural  act,  which 
must  prove  my  doom  and  which  I  had  not  the  slightest 
pretext  for  refusing.  I  kept  my  head,  stuck  to  my  guns, 
and,  against  all  likelihood,  here  I  was  once  more  at  liberty 
and  in  the  king's  highway.  This  was  a  strong  lesson  never 
to  despair  ;  and  at  the  same  time,  how  many  hints  to  be 
cautions  !  and  what  a  perplexed  and  dubious  business  the 
whole  question  of  my  escape  now  appeared  !  That  I  should 


262  ST.  IVES 

have  risked  perishing  upon  a  trumpery  question  of  a 
jjourhoire,  depicted,  in  lively  colours,  the  perils  that  per- 
petually surrounded  us.  Though,  to  be  sure,  the  initial 
mistake  had  been  committed  before  that ;  and  if  I  had  not 
suffered  myself  to  be  drawn  a  little  deep  in  confidences  to 
the  innocent  Dolly,  there  need  have  been  no  tumble  at  tlie 
inn  of  Kirkby-Lonsdale.  I  took  the  lesson  to  heart,  and 
promised  myself  in  the  future  to  be  more  reserved.  It  was 
none  of  my  business  to  attend  to  broken  chaises  or  ship- 
wrecked travellers.  I  had  my  hands  full  of  my  own 
affairs  ;  and  my  best  defence  would  be  a  little  more  natural 
selfishness  and  a  trifle  less  imbecile  good-nature. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

I  MEET  A  CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGAI^T 

I  PASS  over  the  next  fifty  or  sixty  leagues  of  our  journey 
without  comment.  The  reader  must  be  growing  weary  of 
scenes  of  travel  ;  and  for  my  own  part  I  have  no  cause  to 
recall  these  particular  miles  with  any  pleasure.  We  were 
mainly  occupied  with  attempts  to  obliterate  our  trail, 
which  (as  the  result  showed)  were  far  from  successful  ;  for 
on  my  cousin  following,  he  was  able  to  run  me  home  with 
the  least  possible  loss  of  time,  following  the  claret-coloured 
chaise  to  Kirkby-Lonsdale,  where  I  think  the  landlord 
must  have  wept  to  learn  what  he  had  missed,  and  tracing 
us  thereafter  to  the  doors  of  the  coach  office  in  Edinburgh 
without  a  single  check.  Fortune  did  not  favour  me,  and 
why  should  I  recapitulate  the  details  of  futile  precautions 
which  deceived  nobody,  and  wearisome  arts  which  proved 
to  be  artless  ? 

The  day  was  drawing  to  an  end  when  Mr.  Rowley  and  I 
bowled  into  Edinburgh,  to  the  stirring  sound  of  the  guard's 
bugle  and  the  clattering  team.  I  was  here  upon  my  field 
of  battle  ;  on  the  scene  of  my  former  captivity,  escape  and 
exploits  ;  and  in  the  same  city  Avith  my  love.  My  heart 
expanded  ;  I  have  rarely  felt  more  of  a  hero.  All  down 
the  Bridges,  I  sat  by  the  driver  with  my  arms  folded  and 
my  face  set,  unflinchingly  meeting  every  eye,  and  prepared 
every  moment  for  a  cry  of  recognition.  Hundreds  of  the 
population  were  in  the  habit  of  visiting  the  Castle,  where 

263 


264  ST.  IVES 

it  was  my  practice  (before  the  days  of  Flora)  to  make  my- 
self conspicuous  among  the  prisoners  ;  and  I  think  it  an  ex- 
tr  ordinary  thing  that  I  should  have  encountered  so  few  to 
recognise  me.  But  doubtless  a  clean  chin  is  a  disguise  in 
itself  ;  and  the  change  is  great  from  a  suit  of  sulphur  yel- 
low to  fine  linen,  a  well-fitting  mouse-coloured  great-coat 
furred  in  black,  a  pair  of  tight  trousers  of  fashionable  cut, 
and  a  hat  of  inimitable  curl.  After  all,  it  was  more  likely 
that  I  should  have  recognised  our  visitors,  than  that  they 
should  have  identified  the  modish  gentleman  with  the  mis- 
erable prisoner  in  the  Castle. 

I  was  glad  to  set  foot  on  the  flagstones,  and  to  escape 
from  the  crowd  that  had  assembled  to  receive  the  mail. 
Here  we  were,  with  but  little  daylight  before  us,  and  that 
on  Saturday  afternoon,  the  eve  of  the  famous  Scottish 
Sabbath,  adrift  in  the  New  Town  of  Edinburgh,  and  over- 
laden with  baggage.  We  carried  it  ourselves.  I  would 
not  take  a  cab,  nor  so  much  as  hire  a  porter,  who  might 
afterwards  serve  as  a  link  between  my  lodgings  and  the 
mail,  and  connect  me  again  with  the  claret-coloured  chaise 
and  Aylesbury.  For  I  was  resolved  to  break  the  chain  of 
evidence  for  good,  and  to  begin  life  afresh  (so  far  as  re- 
gards caution)  with  a  new  character.  The  first  step  was  to 
find  lodgings,  and  to  find  them  quickly.  This  w^as  the 
more  needful  as  Mr.  Rowley  and  I,  in  our  smart  clothes  and 
with  our  cumbrous  burthen,  made  a  noticeable  appearance 
in  the  streets  at  that  time  of  the  day  and  in  that  quarter  of 
the  town,  which  was  largely  given  up  to  fine  folk,  bucks 
and  dandies  and  young  ladies,  or  respectable  professional 
men  on  their  way  home  to  dinner. 

On  the  north  side  of  St.  James's  Square  I  was  so  happy 
as  to  spy  a  bill  in  a  third-floor  window.  I  was  equally  in- 
different to  cost  and  convenience  in  my  choice  of  a  lodging 
"  any  port  in  a  storm  "  was  the  principle  on  which  I  was 


I  MEET  A  CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGANT     2C5 

prepared  to  act ;  and  Rowley  and  I  made  at  once  for  the 
common  entrance  and  scaled  the  stair. 

We  were  admitted  by  a  very  sour-looking  female  in  bom- 
bazine. I  gathered  she  had  all  her  life  been  depressed  by 
a  series  of  bereavements,  the  last  of  which  might  veiy  well 
have  befallen  her  the  day  before  ;  and  I  instinctively  low- 
ered my  voice  when  I  addressed  her.  She  admitted  she 
had  rooms  to  let^even  showed  them  to  us — a  sitting-room 
and  bedroom  in  a  suite,  commanding  a  fine  prospect  to  the 
Firth  and  Fifeshire,  and  in  themselves  well  proportioned 
and  comfortably  furnished,  with  pictures  on  the  wall, 
shells  on  the  mantelpiece,  and  several  books  upon  the  table, 
which  I  found  afterwards  to  be  all  of  a  devotional  charac- 
ter, and  all  presentation  copies,  "  to  my  Christian  friend, '* 
or  ''to  my  devout  acquaintance  in  the  Lord,  Bethiah 
McRanken."  Beyond  this  my  ''Christian  friend '' could 
not  be  made  to  advance  :  no,  not  even  to  do  that  which 
seemed  the  most  natural  and  pleasing  thing  in  the  world — 
I  mean  to  name  her  price — but  stood  before  us  shaking 
her  head,  and  at  times  mourning  like  tlie  dove,  the  picture 
of  depression  and  defence.  She  had  a  voice  the  most 
querulous  I  have  ever  heard,  and  with  this  she  produced  a 
whole  regiment  of  difficulties  and  criticisms. 

She  could  not  promise  us  attendance. 

"Well,  madam,"  said  I,  "and  Avhat  is  my  servant 
for?" 

"  Him  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Be  gude  to  us  !  Is  he  your  ser- 
vant ?  " 

"  I  am  sorry,  ma^am,  he  meets  with  your  disapproval." 

"Na,  I  never  said  that.  But  he's  young.  He'll  be  a 
great  breaker,  Fm  thinkin'.  Ay  !  he^'ll  be  a  great  respon- 
sibeelity  to  ye,  like.     Does  he  attend  to  his  releegion  ?  " 

"  Yes,  m'm,"  returned  Rowley,  with  admirable  promp- 
titude, and,  immediately  closing  his  eyes,  as  if  from  habit_, 


266  ST.  IVES 

repeated    the   following   distich   with   more  celerity  than 
fervour  ;  — 

"  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke  and  John, 
Bless  the  bed  that  I  lie  on !  " 

"Nhm!"  said  the  lady,  and  maintained  an  awful  si- 
lence. 

''  Well,  ma'am/'  said  I,  '^it  seems  we  are  never  to  hear 
the  beginning  of  your  terms,  let  alone  the  end  of  them. 
(Jome — a  good  movement !  and  let  us  be  either  off  or  on." 
She  opened  her  lips  slowly.     '' Ony  raferences  ?  "  she 
inquired,  in  a  voice  like  a  bell. 

I  opened  my  pocket-book  and  showed  her  a  handful  of 
bank-bills.  "\  think,  madam,  that  these  are  unexception- 
able," said  I. 

"  Ye'll  be  wantin'  breakfast  late  ?  "  w^as  her  reply. 
^'^  Madam,  we  want  breakfast  at  whatever  hour  it  suits 
you  to  give  it,  from  four  in  the  morning  till  four  in  the 
afternoon  !"  I  cried.     "  Only  tell  us  your  figure,  if  your 
mouth  be  large  enough  to  let  it  out ! '' 

''  I  couldnae  give  ye  supper  the  nicht,"  came  the  echo. 
"  We  shall  go  out  to  supper,  you  incorrigible  female  ! " 
I  vowed,  between  laughter  and  tears.  ''  Here— this  is 
going  to  end  !  I  want  you  for  a  landlady— let  me  tell  you 
that  ! — and  I  am  going  to  have  my  way.  You  won't  tell 
me  what  you  charge  ?  Very  well ;  I  will  do  without !  I 
can  trust  you  !  You  don't  seem  to  know  when  you  have  a 
good  lodger  ;  but  I  know  perfectly  when  I  have  an  honest 
landlady  !     Rowley,  unstrap  the  valises  ! " 

Will  it  be  credited  ?  The  monomaniac  fell  to  rating  me 
for  my  indiscretion  !  But  the  battle  was  over  ;  these  were 
her  last  guns,  and  more  in  the  nature  of  a  salute  than  of 
renewed  hostilities.  And  presently  she  condescended  on 
very  moderate  terms,  and  Rowley  and  I  were  able  to  escape 


I   MEET   A   CHEERFUL   EXTRAVAGANT  267 

in  quest  of  supper.  Much  time  had,  however,  been  lost  ; 
the  sun  was  long  down,  the  lamps  glimmered  along  the 
streets,  and  the  voice  of  a  watchman  already  resounded  in 
the  neighbouring  Leith  Eoad.  On  our  first  arrival  I  had 
observed  a  place  of  entertainment  not  far  off,  in  a  street 
behind  the  Register  House.  Thither  we  found  our  way, 
and  sat  down  to  a  late  dinner  alone.  But  we  had  scarce 
given  our  orders  before  the  door  opened,  and  a  tall  young 
fellow  entered  with  something  of  a  lurch,  looked  about 
him,  and  approached  the  same  table. 

*'  Give  you  good  evening,  most  grave  and  reverend  se- 
niors !  "  said  he.  ''  AVill  you  permit  a  wanderer,  a  pilgrim 
— the  pilgrim  of  love,  in  short — to  come  to  temporary  anch- 
or under  your  lee  ?  I  care  not  who  knows  it,  but  I  have 
a  passionate  aversion  from  the  bestial  practice  of  solitary 
feeding ! " 

"  You  are  welcome,  sir,''  said  I,  ''if  I  may  take  upon 
me  so  far  to  play  the  host  in  a  public  place.'' 

He  looked  startled,  and  fixed  a  hazy  eye  on  me,  as  he  sat 
down. 

*'  Sir,"  said  he,  *'  you  are  a  man  not  without  some  tinct- 
ure of  letters,  I  perceive  !     What  shall  we  drink,  sir  ?  " 

I  mentioned  I  had  already  called  for  a  pot  of  porter. 

''  A  modest  pot — the  seasonable  quencher  ?  "  said  he. 
''  Well,  I  do  not  know  but  what  I  could  look  at  a  modest 
pot  myself  !  I  am,  for  the  moment,  in  precarious  health. 
Much  study  hath  heated  my  brain,  much  walking  wearied 
my — well,  it  seems  to  be  more  my  eyes  !  " 

"  You  have  walked  far,  I  daresay  ?  "  I  suggested. 

"  Not  so  much  far  as  often,"  he  replied.  "  There  is  in 
this  city— to  which,  I  think,  yon  are  a  stranger  ?  Sir,  to 
your  very  good  health,  and  our  better  acquaintance  !— 
there  is,  in  this  city  of  Dunedin,  a  certain  implication  of 
streets  which  reflects  the  utmost  credit  on  the  designer  and 


268  ST.  IVES 

the  publicans — at  every  hundred  yards  is  seated  the  Judi- 
cious Tavern,  so  that  persons  of  contemphitive  mind  are 
secure,  at  moderate  distances,  of  refreshment.  I  have  been 
doing  a  trot  in  that  favoured  quarter,  favoured  by  art  and 
nature.  A  few  chosen  comrades — enemies  of  publicity 
and  friends  to  wit  and  wine — obliged  me  with  their  society. 
'  Along  the  cool,  sequestered  vale  of  Register  Street  we 
kept  the  uneven  tenor  of  our  way,'  sir.'^ 

^'  It  struck  me,  as  you  came  in ''  I  began. 

"  0,  don't  make  any  bones  about  it  ! ''  he  interrupted. 
^'  Of  course  it  struck  you  !  and  let  me  tell  you,  I  w^as  dev- 
ilish lucky  not  to  strike  myself.  When  I  entered  this 
apartment  I  shone  '  with  all  the  pomp  and  prodigality  of 
brandy  and  water,'  as  the  poet  Gray  has  in  another  place 
expressed  it.  Powerful  bard.  Gray  !  but  a  niminy-piminy 
creature,  afraid  of  a  petticoat  and  a  bottle — not  a  man,  sir, 
not  a  man  !  Excuse  me  for  being  so  troublesome,  but  what 
the  devil  have  I  done  with  my  fork  ?  Thank  you,  I  am 
sure.  Temulentiaf  quoad  me  ipsuMy  hrevis  colligo  est.  I 
sit  and  eat,  sir,  in  a  London  fog.  I  should  bring  a  link- 
boy  to  table  with  me  ;  and  I  would  too,  if  the  little  brutes 
were  only  washed  !  I  intend  to  found  a  Philanthropical 
Society  for  Washing  the  Deserving  Poor  and  Shaving  Sol- 
diers. I  am  pleased  to  observe  that,  although  not  of  an 
unmilitary  bearing,  you  are  apparently  shaved.  In  my 
calendar  of  the  virtues,  shaving  comes  next  to  drinking. 
A  gentleman  may  be  a  low-minded  ruffian  without  six- 
pence, but  he  will  always  be  close  shaved.  See  me,  with 
the  eye  of  fancy,  in  the  chill  hours  of  the  morning,  say 
about  a  quarter  to  twelve,  noon — see  me  awake  !  First 
thing  of  all,  without  one  thought  of  the  plausible  but  un- 
satisfactory small  beer,  or  the  healthful  though  insipid 
soda-water,  I  take  the  deadly  razor  in  my  vacillating 
grasp  ;  I  proceed  to  skate  upon  the  margin  of  eternity. 


I  MEET  A  CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGANT     209 

Stimulating  thought  !  I  bleed,  perliaps,  but  with  medica- 
ble wounds.  The  stubble  reaped,  I  pass  out  of  my  cham- 
ber, calm  but  triumphant.  To  employ  a  hackneyed  phrase, 
I  would  not  call  Lord  AVellington  my  uncle  I  I,  too,  liave 
dared,  perhaps  bled,  before  the  imminent  deadly  shaving 
table.'' 

In  this  manner  the  bombastic  fellow  continued  to  enter- 
tain me  all  through  dinner,  and  by  a  common  error  of 
drunkards,  because  he  had  been  extremely  talkative  him- 
self, leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  chanced  on  very 
genial  company.  He  told  me  his  name,  his  address  ;  he 
begged  we  should  meet  again  ;  finally  he  proposed  that  I 
should  dine  with  him  in  the  country  at  an  early  date. 

^'^The  dinner  is  official,"  he  explained.  ^^The  office- 
bearers and  Senatus  of  the  University  of  Cramond — an 
educational  institution  in  which  I  have  the  honour  to  be 
Professor  of  Nonsense — meet  to  do  honour  to  our  friend 
Icarus,  at  the  old-established  Jiowffy  Cramond  Bridge.  One 
place  is  vacant,  fascinating  stranger, — I  offer  it  to  you  ! " 

'^'^  And  who  is  your  friend  Icarus  ?"  I  asked. 

"  The  aspiring  son  of  Daedalus  ! "  said  he.  "  Is  it  pos- 
sible that  you  have  never  heard  the  name  of  Byfield  ?  " 

''  Possible  and  true,''  said  I.    - 

*^  And  is  fame  so  small  a  thing  ?"  cried  he.  "  Byfield, 
sir,  is  an  aeronaut.  He  apes  the  fame  of  a  Lunardi,  and 
is  on  the  point  of  offering  to  the  inhabitants — I  beg  your 
pardon,  to  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  our  neighbourhood 
— the  spectacle  of  an  ascension.  As  one  of  the  gentry 
concerned,  I  may  be  permitted  to  remark  that  I  am  un- 
moved. I  care  not  a  Tinker's  Damn  for  his  ascension. 
No  more — I  breathe  it  in  your  ear — does  anybody  else. 
The  business  is  stale,  sir,  stale.  Lunardi  did  it,  and  over- 
did it.  A  whimsical,  fiddling,  vain  fellow,  by  all  accounts 
— for  I  was  at  that  time  rocking  in  my  cradle.     But  once 


270  ST.   IVES 

was  enough.  If  Lnnardi  went  up  and  came  down,  there 
was  the  matter  settled.  We  prefer  to  grant  the  point. 
We  do  not  want  to  see  the  experiment  repeated  ad  nau- 
seam by  Byfield,  and  Brown,  and  Butler,  and  Brodie,  and 
Bottomley.  Ah  !  if  they  would  go  up  and  not  come  down 
again  !  But  this  is  by  the  question.  The  University  of 
Cramond  delights  to  honour  merit  in  the  man,  sir,  rather 
than  utility  in  the  profession  ;  and  Byfield,  though  an 
ignorant  dog,  is  a  sound,  reliable  drinker,  and  really  not 
amiss  over  his  cups.  Under  the  radiance  of  the  kindly 
jar,  partiality  might  even  credit  him  with  wit/^ 

It  will  be  seen  afterwards  that  this  was  more  my  busi- 
ness than  I  tliought  it  at  the  time.  Indeed,  I  was  im- 
patient to  be  gone.  Even  as  my  friend  maundered  ahead, 
a  squall  burst,  the  jaws  of  the  rain  were  opened  against 
the  coffee-house  windows,  and  at  that  inclement  signal  I 
remembered  I  was  due  elsewhere. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE    COTTAGE    AT   NIGHT 

At  the  door  I  was  nearly  blown  back  by  the  nnbridled 
violence  of  the  squall,  and  Eowley  and  I  must  shout  our 
parting  Avords.  All  the  Avay  along  Princes  Street  (whither 
my  way  led)  the  wind  hunted  me  behind  and  screamed  in 
my  ears.  The  city  was  flushed  with  bucketf  uls  of  rain  that 
tasted  salt  from  the  neighbouring  ocean.  It  seemed  to 
darken  and  lighten  again  in  the  vicissitudes  of  the  gusts. 
Now  you  would  say  the  lamps  had  been  blown  out  from 
end  to  end  of  the  long  thoroughfare  ;  now,  in  a  lull,  they 
would  revive,  re-multiply,  shine  again  on  the  wet  pave- 
ments, and  make  darkness  sparingly  visible. 

By  the  time  I  had  got  to  the  corner  of  the  Lothian  Road 
there  was  a  distinct  improvement.  For  one  thing,  I  had 
now  my  shoulder  to  the  wind  ;  for  a  second,  I  came  in  the 
lee  of  my  old  prison-house,  the  Castle  ;  and,  at  any  rate, 
the  excessive  fury  of  the  blast  was  itself  moderating.  The 
thought  of  what  errand  I  was  on  re-awoke  within  me,  and 
I  seemed  to  breast  the  rough  weather  with  increasing  ease. 
With  such  a  destination,  what  mattered  a  little  buifeting 
of  wind  or  a  sprinkle  of  cold  Avater  ?  I  recalled  Flora's 
image,  I  took  her  in  fancy  to  my  arms,  and  my  heart 
throbbed.  And  the  next  moment  I  had  recognised  the  in- 
anity of  tliat  fool's  paradise.  If  I  could  spy  her  taper  as 
she  went  to  bed,  I  might  count  myself  lucky. 

I  had  about  two  leagues  before  me  of  a  road  mostly  up- 

271 


272  ST.  IVES 

hill,  and  now  deep  in  mire.  So  soon  as  I  was  clear  of  the 
last  street  lamp,  darkness  received  me— a  darkness  only 
pointed  by  the  lights  of  occasional  rustic  farms,  where  the 
dogs  howled  with  uplifted  heads  as  I  went  b3\  The  wind 
continued  to  decline  :  it  had  been  but  a  squall,  not  a  tem- 
pest. The  rain,  on  the  other  hand,  settled  into  a  steady 
deluge,  which  had  soon  drenched  me  thoroughly.  I  con- 
tinued to  tramp  forward  in  the  night,  contending  with 
gloomy  thoughts  and  accompanied  by  the  dismal  ululation 
of  the  dogs.  What  ailed  them  that  they  should  have  been 
thus  wakeful,  and  perceived  the  small  sound  of  my  steps 
amid  the  general  reverberation  of  the  rain,  was  more  than 
I  could  fancy.  I  remembered  tales  with  which  I  had 
been  entertained  in  childhood.  I  told  myself  some  mur- 
derer was  going  by,  and  the  brutes  perceived  upon  him  the 
faint  smell  of  blood  ;  and  the  next  moment,  with  a  physi- 
cal shock,  I  had  applied  the  words  to  my  own  case  ! 

Here  was  a  dismal  disposition  for  a  lover.  'MYas  ever 
lady  in  this  humour  wooed  ?  "  I  asked  myself,  and  came 
near  turning  back.  It  is  never  wise  to  risk  a  critical  in- 
terview when  your  spirits  are  depressed,  your  clothes 
muddy,  and  your  hands  wet  !  But  the  boisterous  night 
was  in  itself  favourable  to  my  enterprise  :  now,  or  perhaps 
never,  I  might  find  some  way  to  have  an  interview  with 
Flora ;  and  if  I  had  one  interview  (wet  clothes,  low  spirits 
and  all),  I  told  myself  there  would  certainly  be  another. 

Arrived  in  the  cottage  garden,  I  found  the  circumstances 
mighty  inclement.  From  the  round  holes  in  the  shutters 
of  the  parlour,  shafts  of  candle-light  streamed  forth  ;  else- 
where the  darkness  was  complete.  The  trees,  the  thickets, 
were  saturated  ;  the  lower  parts  of  the  garden  turned  into 
a  morass.  At  intervals,  when  the  wind  broke  forth  again, 
there  passed  overhead  a  wild  coil  of  clashing  branches  ; 
and  between  whiles  the  whole  enclosure  continuously  and 


THE   COTTAGE    AT   NIGHT  27:3 

stridently  resouudcd  with  the  rain.  I  advanced  close  to 
the  window  and  contrived  to  read  the  face  of  my  watch. 
It  was  half-past  seven ;  they  would  not  retire  before  ten, 
they  might  not  before  midnight,  and  the  prospect  was  un- 
pleas^P-it.  In  a  lull  of  the  wind  I  could  hear  from  the  in- 
side the  voice  of  Flora  reading  aloud  ;  the  words  of  course 
inaudible — only  a  flow  of  undecipherable  speech,  quiet,  cor- 
dial, colourless,  more  intimate  and  winning,  more  eloquent 
of  her  personality,  but  not  less  beautiful  than  song.  And 
the  next  moment  the  clamour  of  a  fresh  squall  broke  out 
about  the  cottage  ;  the  voice  was  drowned  in  its  bellowing, 
and  I  was  glad  to  retreat  from  my  dangerous  post. 

For  three  egregious  hours  I  must  now  suffer  the  ele- 
ments to  do  their  worst  upon  me,  and  continue  to  hold  my 
ground  in  patience.  I  recalled  the  least  fortunate  of  my 
services  in  the  field  :  being  out-sentry  of  the  pickets  in 
weather  no  less  vile,  sometimes  unsuppered  and  with  noth- 
ing to  look  forward  to  by  Avay  of  breakfast  but  musket- 
balls  ;  and  they  seemed  light  in  comparison.  So  strangely 
are  we  built  :  so  much  more  strong  is  the  love  of  woman 
than  the  mere  love  of  life. 

At  last  my  patience  was  rewarded.  The  light  disap- 
peared from  the  parlour  and  reappeared  a  moment  after  in 
the  room  above.  I  was  pretty  well  informed  for  the  en- 
terprise that  lay  before  me.  I  knew  the  lair  of  the  dragon 
— that  which  was  just  illuminated.  I  knew  the  bower  of 
my  Rosamond,  and  how  excellently  it  was  placed  on  the 
ground  level,  round  the  flank  of  the  cottage  and  out  of 
earshot  of  her  formidable  aunt.  Nothing  was  left  but  to 
apply  my  knowledge.  I  was  then  at  the  bottom  of  the 
garden,  whither  I  had  gone  (Heaven  save  the  mark  !)  for 
warmth,  that  I  might  walk  to  and  fro  unheard  and  keep 
myself  from  perishing.  The  night  had  fallen  still,  the 
wind  ceased  ;  the  noise  of  the  rain  had  much  lightened,  if 
18 


274  ST.  IVES 

it  had  not  stopped,  and  was  succeeded  by  the  dripping  of 
the  garden  trees.  In  the  midst  of  this  lull,  and  as  I  was 
already  drawing  near  to  the  cottage,  I  was  startled  by  the 
sound  of  a  window-sash  screaming  in  its  channels  ;  and  a 
step  or  two  beyond  I  became  aware  of  a  gush  of  light  upon 
the  darkness.  It  fell  from  Flora's  window,  which  slie  had 
flung  open  on  the  night,  and  where  she  now  sat,  roseate 
and  pensive,  in  the  shine  of  two  candles  falling  from  be- 
hind, her  tresses  deeply  embowering  and  shading  her  ;  the 
suspended  comb  still  in  one  hand,  the  other  idly  clinging 
to  the  iron  stanchions  with  which  the  window  was  barred. 

Keeping  to  the  turf,  and  favoured  by  the  darkness  of 
the  night  and  the  patter  of  the  rain  which  was  now  return- 
ing, though  without  wind,  I  approached  until  I  could 
almost  have  touched  her.  It  seemed  a  grossness  of  which 
I  was  incapable  to  break  up  her  reverie  by  speech.  I  stood 
and  drank  her  in  with  my  eyes  ;  how  the  light  made  a 
glory  in  her  hair,  and  (what  I  have  always  thought  the 
most  ravishing  thing  in  nature)  how  the  planes  ran  into 
each  other,  and  were  distinguished,  and  how  the  hues 
blended  and  varied,  and  were  shaded  off,  between  the  cheek 
and  neck.  At  first  I  was  abashed  :  she  wore  her  beauty 
like  an  immediate  halo  of  refinement ;  she  discouraged  me 
like  an  angel,  or  what  I  suspect  to  be  the  next  most  dis- 
couraging, a  modern  lady.  But  as  I  continued  to  gaze, 
hope  and  life  returned  to  me  ;  I  forgot  my  timidity,  I  for- 
got the  sickening  pack  of  wet  clothes  with  which  I  stood 
burdened,  I  tingled  with  new  blood. 

Still  unconscious  of  my  presence,  still  gazing  before  her 
upon  the  illuminated  image  of  the  window,  the  straight 
shadows  of  the  bars,  the  glinting  of  pebbles  on  the  path, 
and  the  impenetrable  night  on  the  garden  and  the  hills 
beyond  it,  she  heaved  a  deep  breath  that  struck  upon  my 
heart  like  an  appeal. 


THE   COTTAGE    AT   NIGHT  275 

''  Why  does  Miss  Gilchrist  sigh  ? ''  I  whispered.  "  Does 
she  recall  absent  friends  ?  " 

She  turned  her  head  swiftly  in  my  direction  ;  it  was  the 
only  sign  of  surprise  she  deigned  to  make.  At  the  same 
time  I  stepped  forward  into  the  light  and  bowed  pro- 
foundly. 

^^  Your' she  said.     ^^Here?'' 

"  Yes,  I  am  here/'  I  replied.  "  I  have  come  very  far, 
it  may  be  a  hundred  and  fifty  leagues,  to  see  you.  I  have 
waited  all  this  night  in  your  garden.  Will  Miss  Gilchrist 
not  offer  her  hand — to  a  friend  in  trouble  V 

She  extended  it  between  the  bars,  and  I  dropped  upon 
one  knee  on  the  wet  path,  and  kissed  it  twice.  At  the 
second  it  was  withdrawn  suddenly,  methought  with  more 
of  a  start  than  she  had  hitherto  displayed.  I  regained  my 
former  attitude,  and  we  were  both  silent  awhile.  My 
timidity  returned  on  me  tenfold.  I  looked  in  her  face  for 
any  signals  of  anger,  and  seeing  her  eyes  to  waver  and  fall 
aside  from  mine,  augured  that  all  was  well. 

'^  You  must  have  been  mad  to  come  here  ! "  she  broke 
out.  ^'  Of  all  places  under  heaven,  this  is  no  place  for  you 
to  come.  And  I  was  just  thinking  you  were  safe  in 
France  ! " 

'^  You  were  thinking  of  me  !  "  I  cried. 

^^  Mr.  St.  Ives,-  you  cannot  understand  your  danger," 
she  replied.  "  I  am  sure  of  it,  and  yet  I  cannot  find  it  in 
my  heart  to  tell  you.     0  be  persuaded,  and  go  !  " 

*^  I  believe  I  know  the  worst.  But  I  was  never  one  to 
set  an  undue  value  on  life,  the  life  that  we  share  with 
beasts.  My  university  has  been  in  the  wars,  not  a  famous 
place  of  education,  but  one  where  a  man  learns  to  carry  his 
life  in  his  hand  as  lightly  as  a  glove,  and  for  his  lady  or  his 
honour  to  lay  it  as  lightly  down.  You  appeal  to  my  fears, 
and  you  do  wrong.     I  have  come  to  Scotland  with  my  eyes 


276  ST.  IVES 

quite  open,  to  see  yon  and  to  speak  with  you — it  may  'be 
for  the  last  time.  With  my  eyes  quite  open,  I  say  ;  and  if 
I  did  not  hesitate  at  the  beginning,  do  you  think  that  I 
would  draw  back  now  ?  " 

"  You  do  not  know  ! "  she  cried,  with  rising  agitation. 
"  This  country,  even  this  garden,  is  death  to  you.  They 
all  believe  it  ;  I  am  the  only  one  that  does  not.  If  they 
hear  you  now,  if  they  heard  a  whisper — I  dread  to  think 
of  it.     0,  go,  go  this  instant.     It  is  my  prayer.'' 

''Dear  lady,  do  not  refuse  me  what  I  have  come  so  far  to 
seek  ;  and  remember  that  out  of  all  the  millions  in  Eng- 
land there  is  no  other  but  yourself  in  whom  I  can  dare 
confide.  I  have  all  the  world  against  me  ;  you  are  my  only 
ally  ;  and  as  I  have  to  speak,  you  have  to  listen.  All  is 
true  that  they  say  of  me,  and  all  of  it  false  at  the  same  time. 
I  did  kill  this  man  Goguelat — it  was  that  you  meant  ?" 

She  mutely  signed  to  me  that  it  was  ;  she  had  become 
deadly  pale. 

"  But  I  killed  him  in  fair  fight.  Till  then,  I  had  never 
taken  a  life  unless  in  battle,  which  is  my  trade.  But  I  was 
grateful,  I  was  on  fire  with  gratitude,  to  one  who  had  been 
good  to  me,  who  had  been  better  to  me  than  I  could  have 
dreamed  of  an  angel,  who  had  come  into  the  darkness  of 
my  prison  like  sunrise.  The  man  Goguelat  insulted  her. 
0,  he  had  insulted  lue  often,  it  was  his  favourite  pastime, 
and  he  might  insult  me  as  he  pleased — for  who  was  I  ? 
But  with  that  lady  it  was  different.  I  could  never  forgive 
myself  if  I  had  let  it  pass.  And  we  fought,  and  he  fell, 
and  I  have  no  remorse." 

I  waited  anxiously  for  some  reply.  The  worst  was  now 
put,  and  I  knew  that  she  had  hear  1  of  it  before  ;  but  it 
was  impossible  for  me  to  go  on  with  my  narrative  without 
some  shadow  of  encouragement. 

"  You  blame  me  ?  " 


THE   COTTAGE   AT   NIGHT  277 

"No,  not  at  all.  It  is  a  point  I  cannot  speak  on — I  am 
only  a  girl.  I  am  sure  you  were  in  the  right  :  I  have 
always  said  so — to  Ronald.  Not,  of  course,  to  my  aunt. 
I  am  afraid  I  let  her  speak  as  she  will.  You  must  not 
think  me  a  disloyal  friend  ;  and  even  with  the  Major — I 
did  not  tell  you  he  had  become  quite  a  friend  of  ours — 
Major  Chevenix  I  mean — he  has  taken  such  a  fancy  to 
Ronald  !  It  was  he  that  brought  the  news  to  us  of  that 
hateful  Clausel  being  captured,  and  all  that  he  was  saying. 
I  was  indignant  with  him.  I  said — I  daresay  I  said  too 
much — and  I  must  say  he  was  very  good-natured.  He 
said,  '  You  and  I,  who  are  his  friends,  hnow  that  Champ- 
divers  is  innocent.  But  what  is  the  use  of  saying  it  ? ' 
All  this  was  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  in  what  they  call 
an  aside.  And  then  he  said,  '  Give  me  a  chance  to  speak 
to  you  in  private,  I  have  much  to  tell  you.^  And  he  did. 
And  told  me  just  what  you  did — that  it  was  an  affair  of 
honour,  and  no  blame  attached  to  you.  0,  I  must  say  I 
like  that  Major  Chevenix  ! " 

At  this  I  was  seized  with  a  great  pang  of  jealousy.  I 
remembered  the  first  time  that  he  had  seen  her,  the  inter- 
est that  he  seemed  immediately  to  conceive  ;  and  I  could 
not  but  admire  the  dog  for  the  use  he  had  been  ingenious 
enough  to  make  of  our  acquaintance  in  order  to  supplant 
me.  All  is  fair  in  love  and  war.  For  all  that,  I  was  now 
no  less  anxious  to  do  the  speaking  myself  than  I  had  been 
before  to  hear  Flora.  At  least,  I  could  keep  clear  of  the 
hateful  image  of  Major  Chevenix.  Accordingly  I  burst  at 
once  on  the  narrative  of  my  adventures.  It  was  the  same 
as  you  have  read,  but  briefer,  and  told  with  a  very  dif- 
ferent purpose.  Now  every  incident  had  a  particular 
bearing,  every  by-way  branched  off  to  Rome — and  that 
was  Flora. 

When  I  had  begun  to  speak,  I  hftd  kneeled  upon   the 


278  ST.  IVES 

gravel  withoutside  the  low  window,  rested  my  arms  upon 
the  sill,  and  lowered  my  voice  to  the  most  confidential 
whisper.  Flora  herself  most  kneel  upon  the  other  side, 
and  this  brought  our  heads  upon  a  level,  with  only  the 
bars  between  us.  So  placed,  so  separated,  it  seemed  tliat 
our  proximity,  and  the  continuous  and  low  sounds  of  my 
pleading  voice,  worked  progressively  and  powerfully  on 
her  heart,  and  perhaps  not  less  so  on  my  own.  For  tliese 
spells  are  double-edged.  The  silly  birds  may  be  chai-med 
with  the  I3ipe  of  the  fowler,  which  is  but  a  tube  of  reeds. 
Not  so  with  a  bird  of  our  own  feather  I  As  I  went  on, 
and  my  resolve  strengthened,  and  my  voice  found  new 
modulations,  and  our  faces  were  drawn  closer  to  the  bars 
and  to  each  other,  not  only  she,  but  I,  succumbed  to  the 
fascination  and  were  kindled  by  the  charm.  We  make 
love,  and  thereby  ourselves  fall  the  deeper  in  it.  It  is 
with  the  heart  only  that  one  captures  a  heart. 

*^  And  now,"  I  continued,  ^'  I  Avill  tell  you  what  you  can 
still  do  for  me.  I  run  a  little  risk  just  now,  and  3'ou  see 
for  yourself  how  unavoidable  it  is  for  any  man  of  honour. 
But  if — but  in  case  of  the  worst,  I  do  not  choose  to  enrich 
either  my  enemies  or  the  Prince  Regent.  I  have  here  the 
bulk  of  what  my  uncle  gave  me.  Eight  thousand  odd 
pounds.  Will  you  take  care  of  it  for  me  ?  Do  not  think 
of  it  merely  as  money  ;  take  and  keep  it  as  a  relic  of  your 
friend  or  some  precious  piece  of  him.  I  may  have  bitter 
need  of  it  ere  long.  Do  you  know  the  old  country  story 
of  the  giant  who  gave  his  heart  to  his  wife  to  keep  for  him, 
thinking  it  safer  to  repose  on  her  loyalty  than  his  own 
strength  ?  Flora,  I  am  the  giant — a  very  little  one  :  will 
you  be  the  keeper  of  my  life  ?  It  is  my  heart  I  offer  you 
in  this  symbol.  In  the  sight  of  God,  if  you  will  have  it,  1 
give  you  my  name,  I  endow  you  with  my  money.  If  the 
worst  come,  if  I  may  never  hope  to  call  you  wife,  let  me 


THE   COTTAGE   AT   NIGUT  279 

at  least  think  that  you  will  use  my  uncle's  legacy  as  my 
widow/'' 

''No,  not  that/'  she  said.     "  Never  that." 

''  What  then  ?  "  I  said.  "  What  else,  my  angel  ?  What 
are  words  to  me  ?  There  is  but  one  name  that  I  care  to 
know  you  by.     Flora,  my  love  ! " 

"  Anne  !  "  she  said. 

What  sound  is  so  full  of  music  as  one's  own  name  uttered 
for  the  first  time  in  the  voice  of  her  we  love  ? 

''  My  darling  !  "  said  I. 

The  jealous  bars,  set  at  the  top  and  bottom  in  stone  and 
lime,  obstructed  the  rapture  of  the  moment  ;  but  I  took 
her  to  myself  as  wholly  as  they  allowed.  She  did  not  shun 
my  lips.  My  arms  were  wound  round  her  body,  which 
yielded  itself  generously  to  my  embrace.  As  we  so  re- 
mained, entwined  and  yet  severed,  bruising  our  faces  un- 
consciously on  the  cold  bars,  the  irony  of  the  universe — 
or  as  I  prefer  to  say,  envy  of  some  of  the  gods — again 
stirred  up  the  elements  of  that  stormy  night.  The  wind 
blew  again  in  the  tree-tops  ;  a  volley  of  cold  sea-ruin 
deluged  the  garden,  and,  as  the  deuce  would  have  it,  a 
gutter  which  had  been  hitherto  choked  up,  began  suddenly 
to  play  upon  my  head  and  shoulders  with  the  vivacity  of  a 
fountain.  We  parted  with  a  shock  ;  I  sprang  to  my  feet, 
and  she  to  hers,  as  though  we  had  been  discovered.  A 
moment  after,  but  now  both  standing,  we  had  again  ap- 
proached the  window  on  either  side. 

"Flora,"  I  said,  ''this  is  but  a  poor  offer  I  can  make  you." 

She  took  my  hand  in  hers  and  clasped  it  to  her  bosom. 

"  Rich  enough  for  a  queen  ! "  she  said,  with  a  lift  in  her 
breathing  that  was  more  eloquent  than  words.  "Anne, 
my  brave  Anne  !  I  would  be  glad  to  be  your  maidservant ; 
I  could  envy  that  boy  Rowley.  But,  no  ! "  she  broke  off, 
"I  envy  no  one — I  need  not — I  am  yours." 


280  ST.   IVES 

"  Mine,"  said  I,  ''  for  ever  !     By  this  and  this,  mine  !  '* 
''All   of  me,"   she   repeated.       ''Altogether,    and   for 


ever  i 


} " 


And  if  the  god  were  envious,  he  must  have  seen  with 
mortification  how  little  he  could  do  to  mar  the  happiness 
of  mortals.  I  stood  in  a  mere  waterspout ;  she  herself  was 
wet,  not  from  my  embrace  only,  but  from  the  splashing  of 
the  storm.  The  candles  had  gutted  out ;  we  were  in  dark- 
ness. I  could  scarce  see  anything  but  the  shining  of  her 
eyes  in  the  dark  room.  To  her  I  must  have  appeared  as  a 
silhouette,  haloed  by  rain  and  the  spouting  of  the  ancient 
Gothic  gutter  above  my  head. 

Presently  we  became  more  calm  and  confidential ;  and 
when  that  squall,  which  proved  to  be  the  last  of  the  storm, 
had  blown  by,  fell  into  a  talk  of  ways  and  means.  It 
seemed  she  knew  Mr.  Kobbie,  to  whom  I  had  been  so 
slenderly  accredited  by  Romaine — was  even  invited  to  his 
house  for  the  evening  of  Monday,  and  gave  me  a  sketch  of 
the  old  gentleman's  character,  which  implied  a  great  deal 
of  penetration  in  herself  and  proved  of  great  use  to  me  in 
the  immediate  sequel.  It  seemed  he  was  an  enthusiastic 
antiquary,  and  in  particular  a  fanatic  of  heraldry.  I 
heard  it  with  delight,  for  I  was  myself,  thanks  to  M.  de 
Culemberg,  fairly  grounded  in  that  science,  and  acquainted 
with  the  blazons  of  most  families  of  note  in  Europe.  And 
I  had  made  up  my  mind — even  as  she  spoke  it  was  my  fixed 
determination,  though  I  was  a  hundred  miles  from  saying 

it to  meet  Flora  on  Monday  night  as  a  fellow-guest  in  Mr. 

Robbie's  house. 

I  gave  her  my  money — it  was,  of  course,  only  paper  I  had 
brought.  I  gave  it  her,  to  be  her  marriage  portion,  I 
declared. 

"  Not  so  bad  a  marriage  portion  for  a  private  soldier,'' 
I  told  her,  laughing,  as  I  passed  it  through  the  bars. 


THE   COTTAGE  AT   NIGHT  281 


<( 


0,  Anne,  and  where  am  I  to  keep  it  ? "  she  cried. 
'''If  my  aunt  should  find  it  !     What  would  I  say  !  " 

'^Next  your  heart/'  I  suggested. 

^'  Then  you  will  always  be  near  your  treasure/'  she  cried, 
*^'for  you  are  always  there  \" 

We  were  interrupted  by  a  sudden  clearness  that  tell 
upon  the  night.  The  clouds  dispersed ;  the  stars  shone  in 
every  part  of  the  heavens  ;  and,  consulting  my  watch,  I 
was  startled  to  find  it  already  hard  on  five  in  the  morning. 


0 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   SABBATH   DAY 

It  was  indeed  high  time  I  shonkl  be  gone  from  Swanston ; 
but  what  I  was  to  do  in  the  meanwhile  was  another  ques- 
tion. Kowley  had  received  his  orders  last  night :  he  was 
to  say  that  I  had  met  a  friend,  and  Mrs.  McRankine  was 
not  to  expect  me  before  morning.  A  good  enough  tale  in 
itself ;  but  the  dreadful  pickle  I  was  in  made  it  out  of  the 
question.  I  could  not  go  home  till  I  had  found  harbour- 
age, a  fire  to  dry  my  clothes  at,  and  a  bed  where  I  might 
lie  till  they  were  ready. 

Fortune  favoured  me  again.  I  had  scarce  got  to  the 
top  of  the  first  hill  when  I  spied  a  light  on  my  left,  about 
a  furlong  away.  It  might  be  a  case  of  sickness ;  what  else 
it  was  likely  to  be — in  so  rustic  a  neighbourhood,  and  at 
such  an  ungodly  time  of  the  morning — was  beyond  my 
fancy.  A  faint  sound  of  singing  became  audible,  and  grad- 
ually swelled  as  I  drew  near,  until  at  last  I  could  make 
out  the  words,  which  were  singularly  appropriate  both  to 
the  hour  and  to  the  condition  of  the  singers.  "^  The  cock 
may  craw,  the  day  may  daw,"  they  sang ;  and  sang  it  with 
such  laxity  both  in  time  and  tune,  and  such  sentimental 
complaisance  in  the  expression,  as  assured  me  they  had  got 
far  into  the  third  bottle  at  least. 

I  found  a  plain  rustic  cottage  by  the  wayside,  of  the  sort 
called  double,  with  a  signboard  over  the  door  ;  and,  the 
lights  within  streaming  forth  and  somewhat  mitigating  the 

283 


THE   SABBATH  DAY  283 

darkness  of  the  morning,  I  was  enabled  to  decipher  the  in- 
scription :  "  The  Hunters'  Tryst,  by  Alexander  Hendry. 
Porter,  Ales,  and  British  Spirits.     Beds.'' 

My  first  knock  put  a  period  to  the  music,  and  a  voice 
challenged  tipsily  from  within. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  it  said  ;•  and  I  replied,  "  A  lawful 
traveller." 

Immediately  after,  the  door  was  unbarred  by  a  company 
of  the  tallest  lads  my  eyes  had  ever  rested  on,  all  astonish- 
ingly drunk  and  very  decently  dressed,  and  one  (who  was 
perhaps  the  drunkest  of  the  lot)  carrying  a  tallow  candle, 
from  which  he  imparfi^fflly  bedewed  the  clothes  of  the 
whole  company.  As  soon  as  I  saw  them  I  could  not  help 
smiling  to  myself  to  remember  the  anxiety  with  which  I 
had  approached.  They  received  me  and  my  hastily-con- 
cocted story,  that  I  had  been  walking  from  Peebles  and 
had  lost  my  way,  with  incoherent  benignity  ;  jostled  me 
among  them  into  the  room  where  they  had  been  sitting,  a 
plain  hedge-row  alehouse  parlour,  with  a  roaring  fire  in 
the  chimney  and  a  prodigious  number  of  empty  bottles  on 
the  floor  ;  and  informed  me  that  I  was  made,  by  this  re- 
ception, a  temporary  member  of  the  Six-Fect-Higli  Club,  an 
athletic  society  of  young  men  in  a  good  station,  who  made 
of  the  Hunters'  Tryst  a  frequent  resort.  They  told  me  I 
had  intruded  on  an  ''  all-night  sitting,"  following  upon  an 
''all-day  Saturday  tramp"  of  forty  miles;  and  that  the 
members  would  all  be  up  and  "  as  right  as  ninepence  "  for 
the  noonday  service  at  some  neighbouring  church — Col- 
ling wood,  if  memory  serves  me  right.  At  this  I  could 
have  laughed,  but  the  moment  seemed  ill  chosen.  For, 
though  six  feet  was  their  standard,  they  all  exceeded  that 
measurement  considerably  ;  and  I  tasted  again  some  of  the 
sensations  of  childhood,  as  I  looked  up  to  all  these  lads 
from  a  lower  plane,  and  wondered  what  they  would  do 


284  ST.  IVES 

next.  But  the  Six-Footers,  if  they  were  very  drunk^ 
proved  no  less  kind.  The  landlord  and  servants  of  the 
Hunters'  Tryst  were  in  bed  and  asleep  long  ago.  Whether 
by  natural  gift  or  acquired  habit,  they  could  sulfer  pande- 
monium to  reign  all  over  the  house  and  yet  lie  ranked  in 
the  kitchen  like  Egyptian  mummies,  only  that  the  sound 
of  their  snoring  rose  and  fell  ceaselessly,  like  the  drone  of 
a  bagpipe.  Here  the  Six-Footers  invaded  them — in  their 
citadel,  so  to  speak ;  counted  the  bunks  and  the  sleepers  ; 
proposed  to  put  me  in  bed  to  one  of  the  lasses,  proposed  to 
have  one  of  the  lasses  out  to  make  room  for  me,  fell  over 
chairs  and  made  noise  enough  to  waken  the  dead  :  the 
whole  illuminated  by  the  same  young  torch-bearer,  but 
now  with  two  candles,  and  rapidly  beginning  to  look  like 
a  man  in  a  snowstorm.  At  last  a  bed  was  found  for  me, 
my  clothes  were  hung  out  to  dry  before  the  parlour  fire, 
and  I  was  mercifully  left  to  my  repose. 

I  awoke  about  nine  with  the  sun  shining  in  my  eyes. 
The  landlord  came  at  my  summons,  brought  me  my  clothes 
dried  and  decently  brushed,  and  gave  me  the  good  news 
that  the  Six-Feet-High  Club  were  all  abed  and  sleeping  off 
their  excesses.  Where  they  were  bestowed  was  a  puzzle  to 
•  me,  until  (as  I  was  strolling  about  the  garden  patch  waiting 
for  breakfast)  I  came  on  a  barn  door,  and,  looking  in,  saw 
all  the  red  faces  mixed  in  the  straw  like  plums  in  a  cake. 
Quoth  the  stalwart  maid  who  brought  me  my  porridge  and 
bade  me  "  eat  them  while  they  were  hot,"  "  Ay,  they  were 
a'  on  the  ran-dan  last  nicht  !  Hout  !  they're  fine  lads,  and 
they'll  be  nane  the  waur  of  it.  Forby  Farbes's  coat  :  I 
dinna  see  wha's  to  get'  the  creish  off  that  ! "  she  added, 
with  a  sigh  ;  in  which,  identifying  Forbes  as  the  torch- 
bearer,  I  mentally  joined. 

It  was  a  brave  morning  when  I  took  the  road  ;  the  sun 
shone,  spring  seemed  in  the  air,  it  smelt  like  April  or  May, 


THE   SABBATH   DAY  285 

and  some  over-venturous  birds  sang  in  the  coppices  as  I 
went  bj.  I  had  plenty  to  think  of,  plenty  to  be  grateful 
for,  that  gallant  morning  ;  and  yet  1  had  a  twitter  at  my 
heart.  To  enter  the  city  by  daylight  might  be  compared 
to  marching  on  a  battery  ;  every  face  that  I  confronted 
would  threaten  me  like  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  ;  and  it  came 
into  my  head  suddenly  with  how  much  better  a  coun- 
tenance I  should  be  able  to  do  it  if  I  could  but  improvise 
a  companion.  Hard  by  Merchiston,  I  was  so  fortunate  as 
to  observe  a  bulky  gentleman  in  broadcloth  and  gaiters, 
stooping  with  his  head  almost  between  his  knees  before  a 
stone  wall.  Seizing  occasion  by  the  forelock,  I  drew  up 
as  I  came  alongside  and  inquired  what  he  had  found  to 
interest  him. 

He  turned  upon  me  a  countenance  not  much  less  broad 
than  his  back. 

(<  Why,  sir,^"  he  replied,  "  I  was  even  marvelling  at  my 
own  indefeasible  stupeedity  :  that  I  should  walk  this  way 
every  week  of  my  life,  weather  permitting,  and  sliould 
never  before  have  notticed  that  stone,'''  touching  it  at  the 
same  time  with  a  goodly  oak  staff. 

I  followed  the  indication.  The  stone,  which  had  been 
built  sideways  into  the  wall,  offered  traces  of  heraldic 
sculpture.  At  once  there  came  a  wild  idea  into  my  mind  : 
his  appearance  tallied  with  Flora's  description  of  Mr.  Rob- 
bie ;  a  knowledge  of  heraldry  would  go  far  to  clinch  the 
proof ;  and  what  could  be  more  desirable  than  to 
scrape  an  informal  acquaintance  with  the  man  whom  I 
must  approach  next  day  with  my  tale  of  the  drovers,  and 
whom  I  yet  wished  to  please  ?     I  sloped  in  turn. 

''A  chevron,"  I  said;  ''on  a  chief  three  mullets? 
Looks  like  Douglas,  does  it  not  ?  " 

''  Yes,  sir,  it  does  ;  you  are  right,"  said  he  :  ''  it  doef^ 
look  like  Douglas  ;  though,  without  the  tinctures,  and  the 


286  ST.  IVES 

whole  thing  being  so  battered  and  broken  up,  who  shall 
venture  an  opinion  ?  But  allow  me  to  be  more  personal, 
sir.  In  these  degenerate  days  I  am  astonished  you  should 
display  so  much  proficiency.^" 

''  0,  I  was  well  grounded  in  my  youth  by  an  old  gentle- 
man, a  friend  of  my  family,  and  I  may  say  my  guardian," 
said  I  ;  "  but  I  have  forgotten  it  since.  God  forbid  I 
should  delude  you  into  thinking  me  a  herald,  sir  !  I  am 
only  an  ungrammatical  amateur.'" 

''And  a  little  modesty  does  no  harm  even  in  a  herald,'' 
says  my  new  acquaintance  graciously. 

In  short,  we  fell  together  on  our  onward  way,  and  main- 
tained very  amicable  discourse  along  what  remained  of  the 
country  road,  past  the  suburbs,  and  on  into  the  streets  of 
the  New  Town,  which  was  as  deserted  and  silent  as  a  city  of 
the  dead.  The  shops  were  closed,  no  vehicle  ran,  cats 
sported  in  the  midst  of  the  sunny  causeway  ;  and  our 
steps  and  voices  re-echoed  from  the  quiet  houses.  It  was 
the  high-water,  full  and  strange,  of  that  weekly  trance  to 
which  the  city  of  Edinburgh  is  subjected  :  the  apotheosis 
of  the  Saivlath  ;  and  I  confess  the  spectacle  wanted  not 
grandeur,  how^ever  much  it  may  have  lacked  cheerfulness. 
There  are  few  religious  ceremonies  more  imposing.  As  we 
thus  walked  and  talked  in  a  public  seclusion,  the  bells 
broke  out  ringing  through  all  the  bounds  of  the  city,  and 
the  streets  began  immediately  to  be  thronged  with  decent 
church-goers. 

''  Ah  ! "  said  my  companion,  ''there  are  the  bells  !  Kow, 
sir,  as  you  are  a  stranger,  I  must  offer  you  the  hospitality 
of  my  pew.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  are  at  all  used  with 
our  Scottish  form  ;  but  in  case  you  are  not,  I  will  find 
your  places  for  you  ;  and  Dr.  Henry  Gray,  of  St.  Mary's 
(under  whom  I  sit),  is  as  good  a  preacher  as  we  have  to 
show  you." 


THE   SABBATH   DAY  287 

This  put  me  in  a  quandary.  It  was  a  degree  of  risk  I 
was  scarce  prepared  for.  Dozens  of  people,  who  might 
pass  me  by  in  the  street  with  no  more  than  a  second  look, 
would  go  on  from  the  second  to  the  third,  and  from  that 
to  a  final  recognition,  if  I  were  set  before  them,  immobil- 
ised in  a  pew,  during  the  whole  time  of  service.  An  un- 
lucky turn  of  the  head  would  suflice  to  arrest  their 
attention.  "Who  is  that  ? '^  they  would  think  :  "Surely, 
I  should  know  him  !  '^  and,  a  church  being  the  place  in 
all  the  world  where  one  has  least  to  think  of,  it  was  ten  to 
one  they  would  end  by  remembering  me  before  the  bene- 
diction. However,  my  mind  was  made  up  :  I  thanked  my 
obliging  friend,  and  placed  myself  at  his  disposal. 

Our  way  now  led  us  into  the  north-east  quarter  of  the 
town,  among  pleasant  new  faubourgs,  to  a  decent  new 
church  of  a  good  size,  where  I  was  soon  seated  by  the  side 
of  my  good  Samaritan,  and  looked  upon  by  a  whole  con- 
gregation of  menacing  faces.  At  first  the  possibility  of 
danger  kept  me  awake  ;  but  by  the  time  I  had  assured  my- 
self t^iere  was  none  to  be  apprehended,  and  the  service  was 
not  in  the  least  likely  to  be  enlivened  by  the  arrest  of  a 
French  spy,  I  had  to  resign  myself  to  the  task  of  listening 
to  Dr.  Henry  Gray. 

As  we  moved  out,  after  this  ordeal  was  over,  my  friend 
was  at  once  surrounded  and  claimed  by  his  acquaintance 
of  the  congregation  ;  and  I  was  rejoiced  to  hear  him  ad- 
dressed by  the  expected  name  of  Robbie. 

So  soon  as  we  were  clear  of  the  crowd — ''  Mr.  Robbie  ?" 
said  I,  bowing. 

''  The  very  same,  sir,"  said  he. 

''  If  I  mistake  not,  a  lawyer  ? '' 

''  A  writer  to  his  Majesty's  Signet,  at  your  service." 

''  It  seems  we  were  predestined  to  be  acquaintances  !  "  I 
exclaimed.     "  I  have  here  a  card  in  my  pocket  intended 


288  ST.  IVES 

for  you.  It  is  from  my  family  lawyer.  It  was  his  last 
word,  as  I  was  leaving,  to  ask  to  be  remembered  kindly, 
and  to  trust  you  would  pass  over  so  informal  an  introduc- 
tion." 

And  I  offered  him  the  card. 

"  Ay,  ay,  my  old  friend  Daniel  ! "  says  he,  looking  on 
the  card.     ''  And  how  does  my  old  friend  Daniel  ? "' 

I  gave  a  favourable  view  of  Mr.  Eomaine's  health. 

''  Well,  this  is  certainly  a  whimsical  incident,"  he  con- 
tinued. ^'  And  since  we  are  thus  met  already — and  so 
much  to  my  advantage  ! — the  simplest  thing  will  be  to 
prosecute  the  acquaintance  instantly.  Let  me  propose  a 
snack  between  sermons,  a  bottle  of  my  particular  green 
seal — and  when  nobody  is  looking,  we  can  talk  blazons, 
Mr.  Dulcie  !  " — which  was  the  name  I  then  used  and  had 
already  incidentally  mentioned,  in  the  vain  hope  of  pro- 
voking a  return  in  kind. 

^'1  beg  your  pardon,  sir :  do  I  understand  you  to  invite 
me  to  your  house  ?  "  said  I. 

*^  That  was  the  idea  I  was  trying  to  convey,"  said  he. 
'^  We  have  the  name  of  hospitable  people  up  here,  and  I 
would  like  you  to  try  mine." 

''  Mr.  Kobbie,  I  shall  hope  to  try  it  some  day,  but  not 
yet,"  I  replied.  "  I  hope  you  will  not  misunderstand  me. 
My  business,  which  brings  me  to  your  city,  is  of  a  peculiar 
kind.  Till  you  shall  have  heard  it,  and,  indeed,  till  its 
issue  is  known,  I  should  feel  as  if  I  had  stolen  your 
invitation." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  he,  a  little  sobered,  "  it  must  be  as 
you  wish,  though  you  would  hardly  speak  otherwise  if  you 
had  committed  homicide  !  Mine  is  the  loss.  I  must  eat 
alone  ;  a  very  pernicious  thing  for  a  person  of  my  habit  of 
body,  content  myself  with  a  pint  of  skinking  claret,  and 
meditate  the  discourse.     But  about  this  business  of  yours  : 


THE   SABBATH  DAY  289 

if  it  is  so  parteicnlar  as  all  that,  it  will  doubtless  admit  of 
no  delay/'' 

'^  I  must  confess,  sir,  it  presses/'  I  acknowledged. 

''  Then,  let  us  say  to-morrow  at  half -past  eight  in  the 
morning,"  said  he  ;  *^and  I  hope,  when  your  mind  is  at 
rest  (and  it  does  you  much  honour  to  take  it  as  you  do), 
that  you  will  sit  down  with  me  to  the  postponed  meal,  not 
forgetting  the  bottle.  You  have  my  address  ?"  he  added, 
and  gave  it  me — which  was  the  only  thing  I  wanted. 

At  last,  at  the  level  of  York  Place,  we  parted  with 
mutual  civilities,  and  I  was  free  to  pursue  my  way,  through 
the  mobs  of  people  returning  from  church,  to  my  lodgings 
in  St.  James^'s  Square. 

Almost  at  the  house  door,  whom  should  I  overtake  but 
my  landlady  in  a  dress  of  gorgeous  severity,  and  dragging 
a  prize  in  her  wake  :  no  less  than  Rowley,  with  the  cockade 
in  his  hat,  and  a  smart  pair  of  tops  to  his  boots  !  When  I 
said  he  was  in  the  lady's  wake,  I  spoke  but  in  metaphor. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  squiring  her,  with  the  utmost 
dignity,  on  his  arm  ;  and  I  followed  them  up  the  stairs, 
smiling  to  myself. 

Both  were  quick  to  salute  me  as  soon  as  I  was  perceived, 
and  Mrs.  McRankine  inquired  where  I  had  been.  I  told 
her  boastfully,  giving  her  the  name  of  the  church  and  the 
divine,  and  ignorantly  supposing  I  should  have  gained 
caste.  But  she  soon  opened  my  eyes.  In  the  roots  of  i\\Q 
Scottish  character  there  are  knots  and  contortions  that  not 
only  no  stranger  can  understand,  but  no  stranger  can  fol- 
low ;  he  walks  among  explosives  ;  and  his  best  course  is  to 
throw  himself  upon  their  mercy—"  Just  as  I  am,  without 
one  plea,"  a  citation  from  one  of  the  lady's  favourite  hymns. 

The  sound  she    made    was    unmistakable  in  meaning, 
though   it  was  impossible  to  be  written  down  ;  and  I  at 
once  executed  the  manoeuvre  I  have  recommended. 
19 


290  ST.    IVES 

"You  must  remember,  I  am  a  jierfect  stranger  in  your 
city,"  said  I.  "  If  I  have  done  wrong,  it  was  in  mere  ig- 
norance, my  dear  lady  ;  and  this  afternoon,  if  you  will  be 
so  good  as  to  take  me,  I  shall  accompany  you." 

But  she  was  not  to  be  pacified  at  the  moment,  and  de- 
parted to  her  own  quarters  murmuring. 

''Well,  Rowley,''  said  I;  ''and  have  you  been  to 
church?" 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  you  have  not  been  any  less  unlucky  than  I  have," 
I  returned.  "And  how  did  you  get  on  Avith  the  Scottish 
form?" 

"Well,  sir,  it  was  pretty 'ard,  the  form  was,  and  reethcr 
narrow,"  he  replied.  "  I  don't  know  w'y  it  is,  but  it  seems 
to  me  like  as  if  things  were  a  good  bit  changed  since  Will- 
iam Wallace  !  That  was  a  main  queer  church  she  took  me  to, 
Mr.  Anne !  I  don't  know  as  I  could  have  sat  it  out,  if  she 
'adn't  'a'  give  me  peppermints.  She  ain't  a  bad  one  at  bot- 
tom, the  old  girl ;  she  do  pounce  a  bit,  and  she  do  worry,  but, 
law  bless  you,  Mr.  Anne,  'it  ain't  nothink  really — she  don't 
7nean  it.  W'y,  she  was  down  on  me  like  a  'undredweight 
of  bricks  this  morning.  You  see,  last  night  she  'ad  me  in  to 
supper,  and,  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  took  the  freedom 
of  playing  her  a  chune  or  two.  She  didn't  mind  a  bit  ;  so 
this  morning  I  began  to  play  to  myself,  and  she  flounced 
in,  and  flew  up,  and  carried  on  no  end  about  Sunday  I " 

"You  see,  Rowley,"  said  I,  "they're  all  mad  up  here, 
and  you  have  to  humour  them.  See,  and  don't  quarrel 
with  Mrs.  McRankine  ;  and,  above  all,  don't  argue  with  her, 
'or  you'll  get  the  worst  of  it.  Whatever  she  says,  touch 
your  forelock  and  say,  '  If  you  please  I '  or  '  I  beg  pardon, 
ma'am.'  And  let  me  tell  you  one  thing  :  I  am  sorry,  but 
you  have  to  go  to  church  with  her  again  this  afternoon. 
That's  duty,  my  boy  ! " 


THE   SABBATH   DAY  291 

As  I  had  foreseen,  the  bells  had  scarce  begun  before  Mrs. 
McRankine  presented  herself  to  be  our  escort,  upon  which 
I  sprang  up  with  readiness  and  offered  her  my  arm.  Row- 
ley followed  behind.  I  was  beginning  to  grow  accustomed 
to  the  risks  of  my  stay  in  Edinburgn,  and  it  even  amused 
me  to  confront  a  new  churchful.  I  confess  the  amusement 
did  not  last  until  the  end  ;  for  if  Dr.  Gray  were  long,  Mr. 
McCraw  was  not  only  longer,  but  more  incoherent,  and 
the  matter  of  his  sermon  (which  was  a  direct  attack,  appar- 
ently, on  all  the  Churches  of  the  world,  my  own  among  the 
number),  where  it  had  not  the  toiiic  quality  of  personal 
insult,  rather  inclined  me  to  slumber.  But  I  braced  my- 
self for  my  life,  kept  up  Rowley  with  the  end  of  a  pin,  and 
came  through  it  awake,  but  no  more. 

Bethiah  was  quite  conquered  by  this  "  mark  of  grace," 
though,  I  am  afraid,  she  was  also  moved  by  more  worldly 
considerations.  The  first  is,  the  lady  had  not  the  least 
objection  to  go  to  church  on  the  arm  of  an  elegantly  dressed 
young  gentleman,  and  be  followed  by  a  spruce  servant  with 
a  cockade  in  his  hat.  I  could  see  it  by  the  way  she  took 
possession  of  us,  found  us  the  places  in  the  Bible,  whis- 
pered to  me  the  name  of  the  minister,  passed  us  lozenges, 
which  I  (for  my  part)  handed  on  to  Rowley,  and  at  each  fresh 
attention  stole  a  little  glance  about  the  church  to  make 
sure  she  was  observed.  Rowley  was  a  pretty  boy ;  you  will 
pardon  me,  if  I  also  remembered  that  I  was  a  favourable- 
looking  young  man.  When  we  grow  elderly,  how  the 
room  brightens,  and  begins  to  look  as  it  ought  to  look,  on 
the  entrance  of  youth,  grace,  health,  and  comeliness  !  You 
do  not  want  them  for  yourself,  perhaps  not  even  for  your 
son,  but  you  look  on  smiling  ;  and  when  you  recall  their 
images— again,  it  is  with  a  smile.  I  defy  you  to  see  or  tliink 
of  them  and  not  smile  with  an  infinite  and  intimate,  but 
quite  impersonal,  pleasure.     Well,  either  I  know  nothing 


292  ST.  IVES 

of  women,  or  that  was  the  case  with  Bethiah  McRankine. 
She  liad  been  to  church  with  a  cockade  behind  her,  on  the 
one  hand  ;  on  the  other,  her  house  was  brightened  by  the 
presence  of  a  pair  of  good-looking  young  fellows  of  the 
other  sex,  who  were  always  pleased  and  deferential  in  her 
society  and  accepted  her  views  as  final. 

These  were  sentiments  to  be  encouraged  ;  and,  on  the 
w\ay  home  from  church — if  church  it  could  be  called — I 
adopted  a  most  insidious  device  to  magnify  her  interest.  I 
took  her  into  the  confidence,  that  is,  of  my  love  affair,  and 
I  had  no  sooner  mentioned  a  young  lady  with  whom  my 
affections  were  engaged  than  she  turned  upon  me  a  face  of 
awful  gravity. 

"  Is  she  bonny  ?  "  she  inquired. 

I  gave  her  full  assurances  upon  that. 

^'  To  what  denoamination  does  she  beloang  ?  "  came  next, 
and  was  so  unexpected  as  almost  to  deprive  me  of  breath. 

"  Upon  my  word,  ma'am,  I  have  never  inquired,^'  cried  I ; 
''  I  only  know  that  she  is  a  heartfelt  Christian,  and  that  is 
enough. '' 

'*^  Ay! '"  she  sighed,  ''  if  she  has  the  root  of  the  maitter  ! 
There's  a  remnant  practically  in  most  of  the  denoamina- 
tions.  There's  some  in  the  McGlashanites,  and  some  in  the 
Glassites,  and  mony  in  the  McMillanites,  and  there's  a 
leeven  even  in  the  Estayblishment." 

"  I  have  known  some  very  good  Papists  even,  if  you  go 
to  that,"  said  I. 

'^  Mr.  Dulcie,  think  shame  to  yoursel'  I "  she  cried. 

'^  Why,  my  dear  madam  !     I  only "  I  began. 

^^You  shouldnae  jest  in  sairious  maitters,"  she  inter- 
rupted. 

On  the  whole,  she  entered  into  what  I  chose  to  tell  her 
of  our  idyll  with  avidity,  like  a  cat  licking  her  whiskers 
over  a  dish  of  cream  ;  and,  strange  to  say — and  so  expan- 


THE   SABBATH   DAT  293 

sive  a  passion  is  that  of  love  !— that  I  derived  a  perhaps 
equal  satisfaction  from  confiding  in  that  breast  of  iron.  It 
made  an  immediate  bond  :  from  that  hour  we  seemed  to  he 
welded  into  a  family  party;  and  I  had  little  difficulty  in 
persuading  her  to  join  us  and  to  preside  over  our  tea-table. 
Surely  there  was  never  so  ill-matched  a  trio  as  Rowley, 
Mrs.  McRankine,  and  the  Viscount  Anne  !  But  I  am  of 
the  Apostle's  way,  with  a  difference  :  all  things  to  all  wom- 
en !  When  I  cannot  please  a  woman,  hang  me  in  my 
cravat  I 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

EVENTS   OF    MONDAY  : 

By  half-past  eight  o'clock  on  the  next  morning,  I  was 
ringing  the  bell  of  the  lawyer's  office  in  Castle  Street,  where 
I  found  him  ensconced  at  a  business  table,  in  a  room  sur- 
rounded by  several  tiers  of  green  tin  cases.  He  greeted 
me  like  an  old  friend. 

^'  Come  away,  sir,  come  away  ! "  said  he.  ''  Here  is  the 
dentist  ready  for  you,  and  I  think  I  can  promise  you  that 
the  operation  will  be  practically  painless." 

*'  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  Mr.  Robbie,"  I  replied,  as  I 
shook  hands  with  him.  "  But  at  least  there  shall  be  no 
time  lost  with  me." 

I  had  to  confess  to  having  gone  a-roving  with  a  pair  of 
drovers  and  their  cattle,  to  having  used  a  false  name,  to 
having  murdered  or  half-murdered  a  fellow-creature  in  a 
scuffle  on  the  moors,  and  to  having  suffered  a  couple  of 
quite  innocent  men  to  lie  some  time  in  prison  on  a  charge 
from  which  I  could  have  immediately  freed  them.  All 
this  I  gave  him  first  of  all,  to  be  done  with  the  worst  of  it ; 
and  all  this  he  took  with  gravity,  but  without  the  least 
appearance  of  surprise. 

*'  Now,  sir,"  I  continued,  '^  I  expect  to  have  to  pay  for 
my  unhappy  frolic,  but  I  would  like  very  well  if  it  could 
be  managed  without  my  personal  appearance  or  even  the 
mention  of  my  real  name.  I  had  so  much  wisdom  as  to 
sail  under  false  colours  in  this  foolish  jaunt  of  mine  ;  my 

294 


EVENTS   OF   MONDAY  295 

family  would  be  extremely  concerned  if  they  had  wind  of 
it ;  but  at  the  same  time,  if  the  case  of  this  Faa  has  ter- 
minated fatally,  and  there  are  proceedings  against  Todd 
and  Candlish,  I  am  not  going  to  stand  by  and  see  them 
vexed,  far  less  punished  ;  and  I  authorise  you  to  give  me 
up  for  trial  if  you  think  that  best — or,  if  you  think  it  un- 
necessary, in  the  meanwhile  to  make  preparations  for  their 
defence.  I  hope,  sir,  that  I  am  as  little  anxious  to  he 
Quixotic,  as  I  am  determined  to  be  just." 

''Very  fairly  spoken,"  said  Mr.  Robbie.  ''It  is  not 
much  in  my  line,  as  doubtless  your  friend,  Mr.  Romaine, 
will  have  told  you.  I  rarely  mix  myself  up  with  anything 
on  the  criminal  side,  or  approaching  it.  However,  for  a 
young  gentleman  like  you,  I  may  stretch  a  point,  and  I 
daresay  I  may  be  able  to  accomplish  more  than  perha]).s 
another.  I  will  go  at  once  to  the  Procurator  Fiscal's  otiice 
and  inquire.'' 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Mr.  Robbie,"  said  I.  "You  forget 
the  chapter  of  expenses.  I  had  thought,  for  a  beginning, 
of  placing  a  thousand  pounds  in  your  hands." 

"  My  dear  sir,  you  will  kindly  wait  until  I  render  you  my 
bill,"  said  Mr.  Robbie  severely. 

"  It  seemed  to  me,"  I  protested,  "  that,  coming  to  you 
almost  as  a  stranger,  and  placing  in  your  hands  a  piece  of 
business  so  contrary  to  your  habits,  some  substantial  guar- 
antee of  my  good  faith " 

"  Not  the  way  that  we  do  business  in  Scotland,  sir,"  he 
interrupted,  with  an  air  of  closing  the  dispute. 

"And  yet,  Mr.  Robbie,"  I  continued,  "I  must  ask  you 
to  allow  me  to  proceed.  I  do  not  merely  refer  to  the  ex- 
penses of  the  case.  I  have  my  eye  besides  on  Todd  and 
Candlish.  They  are  thoroughly  deserving  fellows  ;  they 
have  been  subjected  through  me  to  a  considerable  term  of 
imprisonment;    and   I  suggest,   sir,   that  you  slioiild  not 


296  ST.  IVES 

spare  money  for  their  indemnification.  This  will  explain/' 
I  added,  smiling,  "  my  offer  of  the  thousand  pounds.  It 
was  in  the  nature  of  a  measure  by  which  you  should  judge 
the  scale  on  which  I  can  afford  to  have  this  business  carried 
through."' 

''  I  take  you  perfectly,  Mr.  Ducie,"  said  he.  ''  But  the 
sooner  I  am  off,  the  better  this  affair  is  like  to  be  guided. 
My  clerk  will  show  you  into  the  waiting-room  and  give  you 
the  day's  Caledonicm  Mercury  and  the  last  Register  to 
amuse  yourself  with  in  the  interval."' 

I  believe  Mr.  Robbie  was  at  least  three  hours  gone.  I 
saw  him  descend  from  a  cab  at  the  door,  and  almost  im- 
mediately after  I  was  shown  again  into  his  study,  where 
the  solemnity  of  his  manner  led  me  to  augur  the  worst. 
For  some  time  he  had  the  inhumanity  to  read  me  a 
lecture  as  to  the  incredible  silliness,  ''not  to  say  immor- 
ality," of  my  behaviour.  ''  I  have  the  more  satisfaction  in 
telling  you  my  opinion,  because  it  appears  that  you  are 
going  to  get  off  scot  free,"  he  continued,  where,  indeed, 
I  thought  he  might  have  begun. 

"  The  man,  Faa,  has  been  dischairged  cured  ;  and  the 
two  men,  Todd  and  Candlish,  would  have  been  leeberated 
long  ago,  if  it  had  not  been  for  their  extraordinary  loyalty 
to  yourself,  Mr.  Ducie— or  Mr.  St.  Ivey,  as  I  believe  I 
should  noAV  call  you.  Never  a  word  would  either  of  the 
two  old  fools  volunteer  that  in  any  manner  pointed  at  the 
existence  of  such  a  person  ;  and  when  they  were  confronted 
with  Faa's  version  of  the  affair,  they  gave  accounts  so 
entirely  discrepant  with  their  own  former  declarations,  as 
well  as  with  each  other,  that  the  Fiscal  was  quite  non- 
plussed, and  imaigined  there  was  something  behind  it. 
You  may  believe  I  soon  laughed  him  out  of  that  !  And  I 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  your  two  friends  set  free, 
and  very  glad  to  be  on  the  causeway  again." 


EVENTS   OF   MONDAY  297 

'^0,  sir/'  I  cried,  "you  should  have  brought  them 
here/' 

"No  instructions,  Mr.  Ducie  \"  said  he.  "How  did  I 
know  you  wished  to  renew  an  acquaintance  which  you  had 
just  terminated  so  fortunately  ?  And,  indeed,  to  be  frank 
with  you,  I  should  have  set  my  face  against  it,  if  you  had  ! 
Let  them  go  !  They  are  paid  and  contented,  and  have  the 
highest  possible  opinion  of  Mr.  St.  Ivey  !  When  I  gave 
them  fifty  pounds  apiece — which  was  rather  more  than 
enough,  Mr.  Ducie,  whatever  you  may  think — the  man 
Todd,  who  has  the  only  tongue  of  the  party,  struck  his 
staff  on  the  ground.  '  Weel,'  says  he,  '  I  aye  said  he  was  a 
gentleman  ! '  '  Man  Todd,'  said  I,  ^  that  was  just  what  Mr. 
St.  Ivey  said  of  yourself  ! ' " 

"  So  it  was  a  case  of  '  Compliments  fly  when  gentlefolk 
meet.'" 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Ducie,  man  Todd  and  man  Candlish  are 
gone  out  of  your  life,  and  a  good  riddance  !  They  are  fine 
fellows  in  their  way,  but  no  proper  associates  for  the  like 
of  yourself  ;  and  do  you  finally  agree  to  be  done  with  all 
eccentricity — take  up  with  no  more  drovers,  or  rovers,  or 
tinkers,  but  enjoy  the  naitural  pleesures  for  which  your 
age,  your  wealth,  your  intelligence,  and  (if  I  may  be  allowed 
to  say  it)  your  appearance  so  completely  fit  you.  And  the 
first  of  these,"  quoth  he,  looking  at  his  watch,  "  will  be  to 
step  through  to  my  dining-room  and  share  a  bachelor's 
luncheon." 

Over  the  meal,  which  was  good,  Mr.  Kobbie  continued 
to  develop  the  same  theme.  "You're,  no  doubt,  what 
they  call  a  dancing-man  ?  "  said  he.  "  Well,  on  Thursday 
night  there  is  the  Assembly  Ball.  You  must  certainly  '^o 
there,  and  you  must  permit  me  besides  to  do  the  honours 
of  the  ceety  and  send  you  a  ticket.  I  am  a  thorougli 
believer  in  a  young  man  being  a  young  man — but  no  more 


298  ST.  IVES 

drovers  or  rovers,  if  you  love  me  !  Talking  of  which  puts 
me  in  mind  that  you  may  be  short  of  partners  at  the 
Assembly — 0,  I  have  been  young  myself  ! — and  if  ye  care 
to  come  to  anything  so  portentiously  tedious  as  a  tea-party 
at  the  house  of  a  bachelor  lawyer,  consisting  mainly  of  his 
nieces  and  nephews,  and  his  grand-nieces  and  grand- 
nephews,  and  his  wards,  and  generally  the  whole  clan  of 
the  descendants  of  his  clients,  you  might  drop  in  to-night 
towards  seven  o'clock.  I  think  I  can  show  you  one  or  two 
that  are  worth  looking  at,  and  you  can  dance  with  them 
later  on  at  the  Assembly." 

He  proceeded  to  give  me  a  sketch  of  one  or  two  eligible 
young  ladies  whom  I  might  expect  to  meet.  ^'^  And  then 
there's  my  parteecular  friend.  Miss  Flora,''  said  he.  ^'^But 
I'll  make  no  attempt  of  a  description.  You  shall  see  her 
for  yourself." 

It  will  be  readily  supposed  that  I  accepted  his  invitation  ; 
and  returned  home  to  make  a  toilette  worthy  of  lier  I  was 
to  meet  and  tlie  good  news  of  which  I  was  the  bearer.  The 
toilette,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  was  a  success.  Mr.  Eow- 
ley  dismissed  me  Avith  a  farewell :  '^  Crikey  !  Mr.  Anne, 
but  you  do 'look  prime  !  "  Even  the  stony  Bethiah  was — 
how  shall  I  say  ? — dazzled,  but  scandalised,  by  my  appear- 
ance ;  and  while,  of  course,  she  deplored  the  vanity  that 
led  to  it,  she  could  not  wholly  prevent  herself  from  admir- 
ing the  result. 

*' Ay,  Mr.  Ducie,  this  is  a  poor  employment  for  a  way- 
faring Christian  man  ! "  she  said.  'MVi*  Christ  despised 
and  rejectit  in  all  pairts  of  the  world,  and  the  flag  of  the 
Covenant  flung  doon,  you  will  be  muckle  better  on  your 
knees  !  However,  I'll  have  to  confess  that  it  sets  you  week 
And  if  it's  the  lassie  ye're  gaun  to  see  the  nicht,  I  suppose 
I'll  just  have  to  excuse  ye  !  Bairns  maun  be  bairns  !  "  she 
said,  with  a  sigh.     ^'^I  mind  when  Mr.  McRankine  came 


EVENTS    OF   MONDAY  209 

conrtin',  and  that's  lang  by-gane— I  mind  I  had  a  green 
gown,  passementit,  that  was  thocht  to  become  me  to  admi- 
ration. I  was  nae  just  exactly  what  ye  woukl  ca'  bonny  • 
but  I  was  pale,  penetratin',  and  interestin'."  And  she 
leaned  over  the  stair-rail  with  a  candle  to  watch  my  descent 
as  long  as  it  should  be  possible. 

It  was  but  a  little  party  at  ]\Ir.  Kobbie's— by  which,  I  do 
not  so  much  mean  that  there  were  few  people,  for  tlie 
rooms  Avere  crowded,  as  that  there  was  very  little  attempted 
to  entertain  them.  In  one  apartment  there  were  tables  set 
out,  where  the  elders  were  solemnly  engaged  upon  whist  ; 
in  the  other  and  larger  one,  a  great  number  of  youth  of 
both  sexes  entertained  themselves  languidly,  the  ladies 
sitting  upon  chairs  to  be  courted,  the  gentlemen  standing 
about  in  various  attitudes  of  insinuation  or  indifference. 
Conversation  appeared  the  sole  resource,  except  in  so  far  as 
it  was  modified  by  a  number  of  keepsakes  and  annuals 
which  lay  dispersed  upon  the  tables,  and  of  which  the 
young  beaux  displayed  the  illustrations  to  the  ladies. 
Mr.  Eobbie  himself  was  customarily  in  the  card-room  ; 
only  now  and  again,  when  he  cut  out,  he  made  an  in- 
cursion among  the  young  folks,  and  rolled  about  jovially 
from  one  to  another,  the  very  picture  of  the  general 
uncle. 

It  chanced  that  Flora  had  met  Mr.  Robbie  in  the  course 
of  the  afternoon.  "  IN'ow,  Miss  Flora,'"  he  had  said,  "  come 
early,  for  I  have  a  Phoenix  to  show  you — one  Mr.  Ducie,  a 
new  client  of  mine  that,  I  vow,  I  have  fallen  in  love  with  "  ; 
and  he  was  so  good  as  to  add  a  word  or  two  on  my  aj^pear- 
ance,  from  which  Flora  conceived  asusj^icion  of  the  trutli. 
She  had  come  to  the  party,  in  consequence,  on  the  knife- 
edge  of  anticipation  and  alarm  ;  had  chosen  a  place  by 
the  door,  where  I  found  her,  on  my  arrival,  surrounded  by 
a  posse  of  vapid  youths ;  and,  when  I  drew  near,  sprang 


300  ST.    IVES 

up  to  meet  me  in  the  most  natural  manner  in  the  world, 
and,  obviously,  with  a  prepared  form  of  words. 

^*  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Ducie  ?''  she  said.  *^  It  is  quite 
an  age  since  I  have  seen  you  !  '^ 

*'I  have  much  to  tell  you.  Miss  Gilchrist,"  I  replied. 
''  May  I  sit  down  ?  " 

For  the  artful  girl,  by  sitting  near  the  door,  and  the 
judicious  use  of  her  shawl,  had.  contrived  to  keep  a  chair 
empty  by  her  side. 

She  made  room  for  me,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the 
youths  had  the  discretion  to  melt  before  us.  As  soon  as  I 
was  once  seated  her  fan  flew  out,  and  she  whispered  behind 
it: 

''^  Are  yon  mad  ?" 

"  Madly  in  love,"  I  replied  ;  "but  in  no  other  sense." 

"  I  have  no  patience  !  You  cannot  understand  what  I 
am  suffering  !"  she  said.  "What  are  you  to  say  to  Eon- 
aid,  to  Major  Chevenix,  to  my  aunt  ?  " 

"  Yonr  aunt  ?"  I  cried,  with  a  start.  "  Peccavi!  is  she 
here?" 

"  She  is  in  the  card-room  at  whist,^'  said  Flora. 

"Where  she  will  probably  stay  all  the  evening?"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"  She  may,"  she  admitted  ;  "  she  generally  does  ! " 

"  Well,  then,  I  must  avoid  the  card-room,"  said  I, 
"  which  is  very  much  what  I  had  counted  upon  doing.  I 
did  not  come  here  to  play  cards,  but  to  contemj^late  a  cer- 
tain young  lady  to  my  hearths  content — if  it  can  ever  be 
contented  ! — and  to  tell  her  some  good  news." 
•  "But  there  are  still  Ronald  and  the  Major  !"  she  per- 
sisted. "  They  are  not  card-room  fixtures  !  Ronald  will 
be  coming  and  going.     And  as  for  Mr.  Chevenix,  he " 

"  Always  sits  with  Miss  Flora  ?"  I  interrupted.  "And 
they  talk  of  poor  St.  Ives  ?     I  had  gathered  as  much,  my 


EVENTS    OF    MONDAY  301 

dear  ;  and  Mr.  Diicie  has  come  to  prevent  it  !     But  pray 
dismiss  these  fears  !     I  mind  no  one  but  your  aunt/' 

''  Why  my  aunt  ?  " 

"  Because  your  aunt  is  a  lady,  my  dear,  and  a  very 
clever  lady,  and,  like  all  clever  ladies,  a  very  rash  lady," 
said  I.  "  You  can  never  count  upon  them,  unless  you  are 
sure  of  getting  them  in  a  corner,  as  I  have  got  you,  and 
talking  them  over  rationally,  as  I  am  just  engaged  on  with 
yourself  !  It  would  be  quite  the  same  to  your  aunt  to 
make  the  worst  kind  of  a  scandal,  with  an  equal  indiffer- 
ence to  my  danger  and  to  the  feelings  of  our  good  host  ! " 

"  Well,"  she  said,  ^^and  what  of  Ronald,  then?  Do  you 
think  he  is  above  making  a  scandal  ?  You  must  know  him 
very  little  ! " 

"  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  my  pretension  that  I  know 
him  very  well!"  I  replied.  "1  must  speak  to  Ronald 
first — not  Ronald  to  me — that  is  all  !  " 

"  Then,  please,  go  and  speak  to  him  at  once  ! ''  she 
pleaded.  ''  He  is  there — do  you  see  ? — at  the  upj^er  end  of 
the  room,  talking  to  that  girl  in  pink." 

''  And  so  lose  this  seat  before  I  have  told  you  my  good 
news?"  I  exclaimed.  '^  Catch  me!  And,  besides,  my 
dear  one,  think  a  little  of  me  and  my  good  news  !  I  thought 
the  bearer  of  good  news  was  always  welcome  !  I  lioped  he 
might  be  a  little  welcome  for  himself  !  Consider !  I  have 
but  one  friend  ;  and  let  me  stay  by  her  !  And  there  is  only 
one  thing  I  care  to  hear  ;  and  let  me  hear  it  !  " 

'^0,  Anne,"  she  sighed,  '''if  I  did  not  love  you,  why 
should  I  be  so  uneasy  ?  I  am  turned  into  a  coward,  dear  ! 
Think,  if  it  were  the  other  way  round — if  you  were  quite 
safe  and  I  was  in,  0  such  danger  !  " 

She  had  no  sooner  said  it  than  I  was  convicted  of  being 
a  dullard.  '^  God  forgive  me,  dear  ! "  I  made  haste  to  re- 
ply,  '^  I  never  saw  before  that  there  were  two  sides  to 


302  ■  ST.    IVES 

this  ! "  And  I  told  her  my  tale  as  briefly  as  I  could,  and 
rose  to  seek  Ronald.  "  You  see,  my  dear,  you  are  obeyed," 
I  said. 

She  gave  me  a  look  that  was  a  reward  in  itself  ;  and  as  I 
furned  away  from  her,  with  a  strong  sense  of  turning  away 
from  the  sun,  I  carried  that  look  in  my  bosom  like  a  caress. 
The  girl  in  jiink  was  an  arch,  ogling  person,  with  a  good 
deal  of  eyes  and  teeth,  and  a  great  play  of  shoulders  and 
rattle  of  conversation.  There  could  be  no  doubt,  from 
Master  Ronald's  attitude,  that  he  worshipped  the  very 
chair  she  sat  on.  But  I  was  quite  ruthless.  I  laid  my  hand 
on  his  shoulder,  as  he  was  stooping  over  her  like  a  hen 
over  a  chicken. 

^'Excuse  me  for  one  moment,  Mr.  Gilchrist  I"   said  I. 

lie  started  and  span  about  in  answer  to  my  touch,  and 
exhibited  a  face  of  inarticulate  wonder. 

''Yes  !  "  I  continued,  ''it  is  even  myself  !  Pardon  me 
for  interrupting  so  agreeable  a  tete-a-tete,  but  you  know, 
my  good  fellow,  we  owe  a  first  duty  to  Mr.  Robbie.  It 
would  never  do  to  risk  making  a  scene  in  the  man's  draw- 
ing-room ;  so  the  first  thing  I  had  to  attend  to  was  to  have 
you  warned.  The  name  I  go  by  is  Ducie,  too,  in  case  of 
accidents." 

"  I — I  say,  you  know  ! "  cried  Ronald.  "  Deuce  take  it, 
what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Hush,  hush  !  "  said  I.  "  Not  the  place,  my  dear  fellow 
— not  the  place.  Come  to  my  rooms,  if  you  like,  to-night 
after  the  party,  or  to-morrow  in  the  morning,  and  we  can 
talk  it  out  over  a  cigar.  But  here,  you  know,  it  really 
won't  do  at  all." 

Before  he  could  collect  his  mind  for  an  answer,  I  had 
given  him  my  address  in  St.  James's  Square,  and  had 
again  mingled  witli  the  crowd.  Alas  !  I  was  not  fated  to 
get  back  to  Flora  so  easily  !     Mr.  Robbie  was  in  the  path  : 


EVENTS   OF   MONDAr  303 

he  was  insatiably  loquacious  ;  and  as  he  continued  to  pala- 
ver I  watched  the  insipid  youths  gather  again  about  my 
idol,  and  cursed  my  fate  and  my  host.  He  remembered 
suddenly  that  I  was  to  attend  the  Assembly  Ball  on  Thurs- 
day, and  had  only  attended  to-night  by  way  of  a  prepara* 
tive.  This  put  it  into  his  head  to  present  me  to  another 
young  lady  ;  but  I  managed  this  interview  Avith  so  much 
art  that,  while  I  was  scrupulously  joolite  and  even  cordial 
to  the  fair  one,  I  contrived  to  keep  Robbie  beside  me  all 
the  time  and  to  leave  along  with  him  when  the  ordeal  was 
over.  We  were  just  walking  away  arm  in  arm,  when  I 
spied  my  friend  the  Major  approaching,  stiff  as  a  ramrod 
and,  as  usual,  obtrusively  clean. 

^^0  1  there's  a  man  I  want  to  know,"  said  I,  taking 
the  bull  by  the  horns.  ^^  Won't  you  introduce  me  to  Ma- 
jor Chevenix  ?  " 

^^  At  a  word,  my  dear  fellow,'^  said  Robbie  ;  and  *'  Ma- 
jor ! "  he  cried,  ''  come  here  and  let  me  present  to  you 
my  friend  Mr.  Ducie,  who  desires  the  honour  of  your  ac- 
quaintance." 

The  Major  flushed  visibly,  but  otherwise  preserved  his 
composure.  He  bowed  very  low.  '^  I'm  not  very  sure," 
he  said  :  '^  I  have  an  idea  we  have  met  before  ?" 

''^Informally,"  I  said,  returning  his  bow;  '^aiul  I  have 
long  looked  forward  to  the  pleasure  of  regularising  our  ac- 
quaintance." 

^^  You  are  very  good,  Mr.  Ducie,"  he  returned.  "  Per- 
haps you  could  aid  my  memory  a  little  ?  Where  was  it 
that  I  had  the  pleasure  ?  " 

^^0,  that  would  be  telling  tales  out  of  school,"  said  I, 
with  a  laugh,  "  and  before  my  lawyer,  too  ! " 

'^^I'll  wager,"  broke  in  Mr.  Robbie,  ^^that,  when  you 
knew  my  client,  Chevenix,  the  past  of  our  friend  Mr. 
Ducie  is  an  obscure   chapter  full  of   horrid  secrets.     I'll 


304  ST.    lYES 

wager  now  you  knew  him  as  St.  Ixej,"  says  he,  nudging 
me  violently. 

"  I  think  not,  sir/'  said  the  Major,  with  pinched  lips. 

'^Well,  I  wisli  he  may  prove  all  right  ! "'  continued  the 
lawyer,  with  certainly  the  worst-ins2:)ired  jocularity  in  the 
world.  ^*  I  know  nothing  by  him  I  He  may  be  a  swell 
mobsman  for  me  with  his  aliases.  You  must  put  your 
memory  on  the  rack.  Major,  and  when  ye've  remembered 
when  and  where  ye  met  him,  be  sure  ye  tell  me.'' 

''  I  will  not  fail,  sir,"  said  Chevenix. 

"Seek  to  him!"  cried  Kobbie,  waving  his  hand  as  he 
departed. 

The  Major,  as  soon  as  we  were  alone,  turned  upon  me 
his  impassive  countenance. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  you  have  cotirage." 

"It  is  undoubted  as  your  honour,  sir,"  I  returned, 
bowing. 

"  Did  you  expect  to  meet  me,  may  I  ask  ?"  said  he. 

"  You  saw,  at  least,  that  I  courted  the  presentation," 
said  I. 

"  And  you  were  not  afraid  ?  "  said  Chevenix. 

"  I  was  perfectly  at  ease.  I  knew  I  was  dealing  with  a 
gentleman.     Be  that  3'our  epitaph." 

"Well,  there  are  some  other  people  looking  for  you," 
he  said,  "who  will  make  no  bones  about  the  point  of  hon- 
our.    The  police,  my  dear  sir,  are  simply  agog  about  you." 

"  And  I  think  that  that  was  coarse,"  said  I. 

"You  have  seen  Miss  Gilchrist  ?"  he  inquired,  chang- 
ing the  subject. 

"  With  whom,  I  am  led  to  understand,  we  are  on  a  foot- 
ing of  rivalry  ?"  I  asked.     "  Yes,  I  have  seen  her." 

"And  I  was  just  seekin.;^  her,"  he  replied. 

I  was  conscious  of  a  certain  thrill  of  temper ;  so,  I  sup- 
pose, was  he.     We  looked  each  other  u])  and  down. 


EVENTS    OF  MONDAY  305 

**  The  situation  is  original/'  he  resumed. 

^^  Quite/^  said  I.  "But  let  me  tell  you  frankly  you  are 
blowing  a  cold  coal.  I  owe  you  so  much  for  your  kind- 
ness to  the  prisoner  ChamjDdivers.'^ 

"  Meaning  that  the  lady's  affections  are  more  advan- 
tageously disposed  of  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  sneer.  "  Thank 
you,  I  am  sure.  And,  since  you  have  given  me  a  lead, 
just  hear  a  word  of  good  advice  in  your  turn.  Is  it  fair, 
is  it  delicate,  is  it  like  a  gentleman,  to  compromise  the 
young  lady  by  attentions  which  (as  you  know  very  well) 
can  come  to  nothing  ?  '^ 

I  was  utterly  unable  to  find  words  in  answer. 

''^Excuse  me  if  I  cut  this  interview  short,"  he  went  on. 
^'  It  seems  to  me  doomed  to  come  to  nothing,  and  there  is 
more  attractive  metal." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  as  you  say,  it  cannot  amount  to 
much.  You  are  impotent,  bound  hand  and  foot  in  honour. 
You  know  me  to  be  a  man  falsely  accused,  and  even  if  you 
did  not  know  it,  from  your  position  as  my  rival  you 
have  only  the  choice  to  stand  quite  still  or  to  be  infamous." 

"I  would  not  say  that,"  he  returned,  with  another 
change  of  colour.     "  I  may  hear  it  once  too  often." 

With  which  he  moved  off  straight  for  where  Flora  was 
sitting  amidst  her  court  of  A'apid  youths,  and  I  had  no 
choice  but  to  follow  him,  a  bad  second,  and  reading  my- 
self, as  I  went,  a  sharp  lesson  on  the  command  of  tem- 
per. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  how  young  men  in  their  teens  go 
down  at  the  mere  wind  of  the  coming  of  men  of  twenty- 
five  and  upwards  !  The  vapid  ones  fled  without  thought 
of  resistance  before  the  Major  and  me  ;  a  few  dallied  awhile 
in  the  neighbourhood — so  to  speak,  with  their  fingers  in 
their  mouths — but  presently  these  also  followed  the  rout, 
and  we  remained  face  to  face  before  Flora,     There  was  a 


306  ST.   IVES 

draught  in  that  corner  by  the  door  ;  she  had  thrown  her 
pelisse  over  her  bare  arms  and  neck,  and  the  dark  fur  of 
the  trimming  set  them  off.  She  shone  by  contrast ;  the 
light  played  on  her  smooth  skin  to  admiration,  and  the 
colour  changed  in  her  excited  face.  For  the  least  fraction 
of  a  second  she  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  her  pair  of 
rival  swains,  and  seemed  to  hesitate.  Then  she  addressed 
Chevenix  : — 

^*^You  are  coming  to  the  Assembly,  of  course,  Major 
Chevenix  ?"  said  she. 

"1  fear  not;  I  fear  I  shall  be  otherwise  engaged,"  he 
replied.  ^^Even  the  pleasure  of  dancing  with  you.  Miss 
Flora,  must  give  way  to  duty." 

For  awhile  the  talk  ran  harmlessly  on  the  weather,  and 
then  branched  off  towards  the  war.  It  seemed  to  be  by 
no  one's  fault ;  it  was  in  the  air,  and  had  to  come. 

'^'^Good  news  from  the  scene  of  operations,"  said  tlie 
Major. 

'^  Good  news  while  it  lasts,"  I  said.  ''  But  will  Miss 
Gilchrist  tell  us  her  private  thought  upon  the  war  ?  In 
her  admiration  for  the  victors,  does  not  there  mingle  some 
pity  for  the  vanquished  ?" 

*'  Indeed,  sir,"  she  said,  with  animation,  ^'  only  too  much 
of  it !  War  is  a  subject  that  I  do  not  think  should  be 
talked  of  to  a  girl.  I  am,  I  have  to  be — what  do  you  call 
it  ? — a  non-combatant  ?  And  to  remind  me  of  what  others 
have  to  do  and  suffer  :  no,  it  is  not  fair  ! " 

"  Miss  Gilchrist  has  the  tender  female  heart,"  said  Chev- 
enix. 

"  Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that ! "  she  cried.  '^  I  would 
love  to  be  allowed  to  fight  myself  ! " 

''  On  which  side  ?  "  I  asked. 

''Can  you  ask?"  she  exclaimed.  '' I  am  a  Scottish 
girl !  " 


EVENTS   OF   MONDAY  307 

"She  is  a  Scottish  girl  \"  repeated  the  Major,  looking 
at  me.     ''And  no  one  grudges  you  her  pity  ! " 

"  And  I  glory  in  every  grain  of  it  she  has  to  spare,"  said 
I.     *"  Pity  is  akin  to  love/' 

''Well,  and  let  us  put  that  question  to  Miss  Gilchrist. 
It  is  for  her  to  decide,  and  for  us  to  bow  to  the  decision. 
Is  pity.  Miss  Flora,  or  is  admiration,  nearest  love  ?  " 

"  0,  come,""  said  I,  "  let  us  be  more  concrete.  Lay  be- 
fore the  lady  a  complete  case  :  describe  your  man,  then  FU 
describe  mine,  and  Miss  Flora  shall  decide." 

"  I  think  I  see  your  meaning,"  said  he,  "  and  Fll  try. 
You  think  that  pity — and  the  kindred  sentiments — have 
the  greatest  power  upon  the  heart.  I  think  more  nobly  of 
women.  To  my  view,  the  man  they  love  will  first  of  all 
command  their  respect  ;  he  will  be  steadfast— proud,  if 
you  please ;  dry,  possibly — but  of  all  things  steadfast. 
They  will  look  at  him  in  doubt ;  at  last  they  will  see  that 
stern  face  which  he  presents  to  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
soften  to  them  alone.  First,  trust,  I  say.  It  is  so  that  a 
woman  loves  who  is  worthy  of  heroes." 

"  Your  man  is  very  ambitious,  sir,"  said  I,  "  and  very 
much  of  a  hero  !  Mine  is  a  humbler,  and,  I  would  fain 
tliink,  a  more  human  dog.  He  is  one  with  no  particular 
trust  in  himself,  with  no  superior  steadfastness  to  be  ad- 
mired for,  who  sees  a  lady's  face,  who  hears  her  voice,  and, 
without  any  phrase  about  the  matter,  falls  in  love.  What 
does  he  ask  for,  then,  but  pity  ?— pity  for  his  weakness, 
pity  for  his  love,  which  is  his  life.  You  would  make  women 
always  the  inferiors,  gaping  up  at  your  imaginary  lover  ; 
he,  like  a  marble  statue,  with  his  nose  in  the  air  !  But  God 
has  been  wiser  than  you  ;  and  the  most  steadfast  of  your 
heroes  may  prove  human,  after  all.  We  appeal  to  the 
queen  for  judgment,"  I  added,  turning  and  bowing  before 
Flora. 


308  ST.    IVES 

'^And  how  shall  the  queen  judge?"  she  asked.  ''I 
must  give  you  an  answer  that  is  no  answer  at  all.  '  The 
wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth  '  :  she  goes  where  her  heart 
goes." 

Her  face  flushed  as  she  said  it  ;  mine  also,  for  I  read'in 
it  a  declaration,  and  my  heart  swelled  for  joy.  But  Cliev- 
enix  grew  pale. 

''You  make  of  life  a  very  dreadful  kind  of  a  lottery, 
ma'am,"  said  he.  ''  But  I  will  not  despair.  Honest  and 
unornamental  is  still  my  choice." 

And  I  must  say  he  looked  extremely  handsome  and  very 
amusingly  like  the  marble  statue  with  its  nose  in  t}ie  air  to 
which  I  had  compared  him. 

"  I  cannot  imagine  how  we  got  upon  this  subject,"  said 
Flora. 

"  Madam,  it  was  through  the  war,"  replied  Chevenix. 

''  All  roads  lead  to  Rome,"  I  commented.  ''  What  else 
would  you  expect  Mr.  Chevenix  and  myself  to  talk  of  ?" 

About  this  time  I  was  conscious  of  a  certain  bustle  and 
movement  in  the  room  behind  me,  but  did  not  pay  to  it 
that  degree  of  attention  which  perhaps  would  have  been 
wise.  There  came  a  certain  change  in  Flora's  face  ;  she 
signalled  repeatedly  with  her  fan  ;  her  eyes  appealed  to  me 
obsequiously  ;  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  she  wanted 
something— as  well  as  I  could  make  out,  that  I  should  go 
away  and  leave  the  field  clear  for  my  rival,  which  I  had  not 
the  least  idea  of  doing.  At  last  she  rose  from  her  chair 
with  impatience. 

"I  think  it  time  you  were  saying  good-night,  Mr. 
Ducie !"  she  said. 

I  could  not  in  the  least  see  why,  and  said  so. 

Whereupon  she  gave  me  this  appalling  answer,  ''  My 
aunt  is  coming  out  of  the  card -room." 

In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell,  I  had  made  my  bow 


EVENTS   OF   MONDAY  o09 

and  my  escape.  Looking  back  from  the  doorwa}^  I  was 
privileged  to  see,  for  a  moment,  tlie  august  profile  and  gold 
eyeglasses  of  Miss  Gilchrist  issuing  from  the  card-room  ; 
and  the  sight  lent  me  wings.  I  stood  not  on  the  order  of 
my  going  ;  and  a  moment  after,  I  was  on  the  pavement  of 
Castle  Street,  and  the  lighted  windows  shone  down  on  mo, 
and  were  crossed  by  ironical  shadows  of  those  who  had  re- 
mained behind. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

EVENTS   OF   TUESDAY  :   THE   TOILS   CLOSING 

This  day  began  with  a  surprise.  I  found  a  letter  on  my 
breakfast-table  addressed  to  Edward  Ducie.  Esquire ;  and 
at  first  I  was  startled  beyond  measure.  "  Conscience  doth 
make  cowards  of  us  all  ! "  When  I  had  opened  it,  it 
l^roved  to  be  only  a  note  from  the  lawyer,  enclosing  a  card 
for  the  Assembly  Ball  on  Thursday  evening.  Shortly  after, 
as  I  was  composing  my  mind  with  a  cigar  at  one  of  the 
windows  of  the  sitting-room,  and  Eowley,  having  finished 
the  light  share  of  work  that  fell  to  him,  sat  not  far  off 
tootling  with  great  spirit  and  a  marked  preference  for  tlie 
upper  octave,  Konald  Avas  suddenly  shown  in.  I  got  him 
a  cigar,  drew  in  a  chair  to  the  side  of  the  fire,  and  installed 
him  there — I  was  going  to  say,  at  his  ease,  but  no  expres- 
sion could  be  farther  from  the  truth.  He  was  plainly  on 
pins  and  needles,  did  not  know  whether  to  take  or  to  re- 
fuse the  cigar,  and,  after  he  had  taken  it,  did  not  know 
whether  to  light  or  to  return  't.  I  saw  he  had  something 
to  say  ;  I  did  not  think  it  was  his  own  something  ;  and  I 
was  ready  to  offer  a  large  bet  it  was  really  something  of 
Major  Chevenix^s. 

"  AVell,  and  so  here  you  are  ! "  I  observed,  with  pointless 
cordiality,  for  I  was  bound  I  should  do  nothing  to  help 
him  out.  If  he  were,  indeed,  here  running  errands  for  my 
rival,  he  might  have  a  fair  field,  but  certainly  no  favour. 

"  The  fact  is/'  he  began,  ''  I  would  rather  see  you  alone/ 

310 


EVENTS    OF  TUESDAY  311 

''^Wliy,  certainly/^  I  replied.  ^''Rowley,  you  can  step 
into  the  bedroom.  My  dear  fellow/' I  continued,  ^^tliis 
sounds  serious.     Nothing  wrong,  I  trust." 

^'  Well,  I'll  be  quite  honest,"  said  he.  ''  I  am  a  good 
deal  bothered. 

^'  And  I  bet  I  know  why  ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  And  I  bet  I 
can  put  you  to  rights,  too  !  " 

''  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 

*^  You  must  be  hard  up,"  said  I,  ^^and  all  I  can  say  is, 
you've  come  to  the  right  place.  If  you  have  the  least 
use  for  a  hundred  pounds,  or  any  such  trifling  sum  as  that, 
please  mention  it.     It's  here,  quite  at  your  service." 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  most  kind  of  you,"  said  Ronald,  '^  and 
the  truth  is,  though  I  can't  think  how  you  guessed  it,  that 
I  really  am  a  little  behind  board.  But  I  haven't  come  to 
talk  about  that." 

'^  No,  I  daresay  !  "  cried  I.  "^  Not  worth  talking  about ! 
But  remember,  Ronald,  you  and  I  are  on  different  sides  of 
the  business.  Remember  that  you  did  me  one  of  those 
services  that  make  men  friends  for  ever.  And  since  I  have 
had  the  fortune  to  come  into  a  fair  share  of  money,  just 
oblige  me,  and  consider  so  much  of  it  as  your  own." 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  couldn't  take  it ;  I  couldn't,  really. 
Besides,  the  fact  is,  I've  come  on  a  very  different  matter. 
It's  about  my  sister,  St.  Ives,"  and  he  shook  his  head  men- 
acingly at  me.  » 

''  You're  quite  sure  ?  "  I  persisted.  ''  It's  here,  at  your 
service— up  to  five  hundred  pounds,  if  you  like.  Well,  all 
right ;  only  remember  where  it  is,  when  you  do  want  it." 

"  0,  please  let  me  alone  !  "  cried  Ronald  :  ''  I've  come 
to  say  something  unpleasant ;  and  how  on  earth  can  I  do 
it,  if  you  don't  give  a  fellow  a  chance  ?  It's  about  my  sis- 
ter, as  I  said.  You  can  see  for  yourself  that  it  can't  be 
allowed  to  go  on.     It's  compromising  ;  it  don't   lead    to 


312  ST.    IVES 

anything  ;  and  you're  not  the  kind  of  man  (you  must  feel 
it  yourself)  that  I  can  allow  my  female  relatives  to  have 
anything  to  do  with.  I  hate  saying  this,  St.  Ives  ;  it  looks 
like  hitting  a  man  when  he's  down,  you  know  ;  I  told  the 
Major  I  very  much  disliked  it  from  the  first.  However,  it 
had  to  be  said ;  and  now  it  has  been,  and,  between  gentle- 
men, it  shouldn't  be  necessary  to  refer  to  it  again." 

*^  It's  compromising  ;  it  doesn't  lead  to  anything  ;  not 
the  kind  of  man,"  I  repeated  thoughtfully.  ^'  Yes,  I  be- 
lieve I  understand,  and  shall  make  haste  to  put  myself  en 
regie."  I  stood  up,  and  laid  my  cigar  down.  '^Mr.  Gil- 
christ," said  I,  with  a  bow,  "  in  answer  to  your  very  natu- 
ral observations,  I  beg  to  offer  myself  as  a  suitor  for  your 
sister's  hand.  I  am  a  man  of  title,  of  which  we  think 
lightly  in  France,  but  of  ancient  lineage,  which  is  every- 
where prized.  I  can  display  thirty-two  quarterings  with- 
out a  blot.  My  expectations  are  certainly  above  the  aver- 
age :  I  believe  my  uncle's  income  averages  about  thirty 
thousand  pounds,  though  I  admit  I  was  not  careful  to  in- 
form myself.  Put  it  anywhere  between  fifteen  and  fifty 
thousand  ;  it  is  certainly  not  less." 

*'  All  this  is  very  easy  to  say,"  said  Ronald,  with  a  pity- 
ing smile.     ^'  Unfortunately,  these  things  are  in  the  air." 

*^  Pardon  me, — in  Buckinghamshire,"  said  I,  smiling. 

^'  Well,  what  I  mean  is,  my  dear  St.  Ives,  that  you  can^t 
prove  them,"  he  continued.  ^'  They  might  just  as  w^ell 
not  be  :  do  you  follow  me  ?  You  can't  bring  us  any  third 
party  to  back  you  up." 

'^  0,  come  !  "  cried  I,  springing  up  and  hurrying  to  the 
table.  '^  You  must  excuse  me  !  "  I  wrote  Romaine's  ad- 
dress. "  There  is  my  reference,  Mr.  Gilchrist.  Until  you 
have  written  to  him,  and  received  his  negative  answer,  I 
have  a  right  to  be  treated,  and  I  shall  see  that  you  treat 
me,  as  a  gentleman." 


EVENTS   OF   TUESDAY  313 

He  was  brought  np  with  a  round  turn  at  that. 

^'I  beg  your  pardon,  St.  Ives,"  said  he.  '^  Believe  me, 
I  had  no  wish  to  be  offensive.  But  there's  the  difficulty 
of  this  affair  ;  I  can't  make  any  of  my  points  without 
offence  !  You  must  excuse  me,  it's  not  my  fault.  But,  at 
any  rate,  you  must  see  for  yourself  this  proposal  of  mar- 
riage is — is  merely  impossible,  my  dear  fellow.  It's  non- 
sense !     Our  countries  are  at  war  ;  you  are  a  prisoner." 

^^My  ancestor  of  the  time  of  the  Ligue,"  I  replied, 
^'  married  a  Huguenot  lady  out  of  the  Saintonge,  riding 
two  hundred  miles  through  an  enemy's  country  to  bring 
off  his  bride  ;  and  it  was  a  happy  marriage." 

"  Well  !  "  he  began ;  and  then  looked  down  into  the  fire, 
and  became  silent. 

'^Well?"Iasked. 

'^  Well,  there's  this  business  of — Goguelat,"  said  he,  still 
looking  at  the  coals  in  the  grate. 

^'  What ! "  I  exclaimed,  starting  in  my  chair.  ''  What's 
that  you  say  ?  " 

"  This  business  about  Goguelat,"  he  repeated. 

''  Ronald,"  said  I,  "  this  is  not  your  doing.  These  are 
not  your  own  words.  I  know  where  they  came  from  :  a 
coward  put  them  in  your  mouth." 

"  St.  Ives  ! "  he  cried,  ''^  why  do  you  make  it  so  hard  for 
me  ?  and  where's  the  use  of  insulting  other  people  ?  Tlie 
plain  English  is,  that  I  can't  hear  of  any  proposal  of  mar- 
riage from  a  man  under  a  charge  like  that.  You  must  see  it 
for  yourself,  man  !  It's  the  most  absurd  thing  I  ever  heard 
of  !     And  you  go  on  forcing  me  to  argue  with  you,  too  !  " 

''  Because  I  have  had  an  affair  of  honour  wliich  termi- 
nated unhappily,  you— a  young  soldier,  or  next-door  to  it- 
refuse  my  offer  ?     Do  I  understand  you  aright  ?  "  said  I. 

'^My  dear  fellow  !  "  he  wailed,  "  of  course  you  can  twist 
my  words,  if  you  like.     You  sai/  it  was  an  affair  of  honour. 


314  ST.    IVES 

Well,  I  can't,  of  course,  tell  you  that — I  can't I  mean, 

vou  must  see  that  that's  just  the  point !  Was  it  ?  I  don't 
know." 

'^  I  have  the  honour  to  inform  you/'  said  I. 

^'  Well,  other  people  say  the  reverse,  you  see  !  " 

"  They  lie,  Ronald,  and  I  will  prove  it  in  time." 

"  The  short  and  the  long  of  it  is,  that  any  man  who  is  so 
unfortunate  as  to  have  such  things  said  about  him  is  not 
the  man  to  be  my  brother-in-law  ! "  he  cried. 

*^  Do  you  know  who  will  be  my  first  witness  at  the 
court  ?    Arthur  Chevenix  !"  said  I. 

^'  I  don't  care  !"  he  cried,  rising  from  his  chair  and  be- 
ginning to  pace  outrageously  about  the  room.  "  What  do 
you  mean,  St.  Ives  ?  What  is  this  about  ?  It's  like  a 
dream,  I  declare  !  You  made  an  offer,  and  I  have  refused 
it.  I  don't  like  it,  I  don't  want  it ;  and  whatever  I  did, 
or  didn't,  wouldn't  matter — my  aunt  wouldn't  hear  of  it 
anyway  !     Can't  you  take  your  answer,  man  ?  " 

*'  You  must  remember,  Ronald,  that  we  are  playing 
with  edged  tools,"  said  I.  ^'  An  offer  of  marriage  is  a  deli- 
cate subject  to  handle.  You  have  refused,  and  you  have 
justified  your  refusal  by  several  statements.  First,  that  I 
was  an  impostor ;  second,  that  our  countries  were  at  war  ; 
and  third No,  I  will  speak,"  said  I  ;  '^you  can  an- 
swer when  I  have  done, — and  third,  that  I  had  dishonoura- 
bly killed — or  was  said  to  have  done  so — the  man  Gogue- 
lat.  Now,  my  dear  fellow,  these  are  very  awkward  grounds 
to  be  taking.  From  any  one  else's  lips  I  need  scarce  tell 
you  how  I  should  resent  them  ;  but  my  hands  are  tied.  I 
have  so  much  gratitude  to  you,  without  talking  of  the 
love  I  bear  your  sister,  that  you  insult  me,  when  you  do  so, 
under  the  cover  of  a  complete  impunity.  I  must  feel  the 
pain — and  I  do  feel  it  acutely — I  can  do  nothing  to  protect 
myself." 


EVENTS   OF   TUESDAY  315 

He  had  been  anxious  enough  to  interrupt  me  in  the  be- 
ginning ;  but  now,  and  after  I  had  ceased,  he  stood  a  long 
while  silent. 

''St.  Ives,"  he  said  at  last,  ''I  think  I  had  better  go 
away.  This  has  been  very  irritating.  I  never  at  all  meant 
to  say  anything  of  the  kind,  and  I  apologise  to  you.  I  have 
all  the  esteem  for  you  that  one  gentleman  sliould  have  for 
another.  I  only  meant  to  tell  you — to  show  you  what  had 
influenced  my  mind  ;  and  that,  in  short,  the  thing  was  im- 
possible. One  thing  you  may  be  quite  sure  of  :  /shall  do 
nothing  against  you.  Will  you  shake  hands  before  I  go 
away  ?  "  he  blurted  out. 

^'  Yes,"  said  I,  ''I  agree  with  you — the  interview  has  been 
irritating.     Let  bygones  be  bygones.     Good-bye,  Ronald." 

"Good-bye,  St.  Ives!"  he  returned.  "  Tm  heartily 
sorry." 

And  with  that  he  was  gone. 

The  windows  of  my  own  sitting-room  looked  towards  the 
north  ;  but  the  entrance  passage  drew  its  light  from  the 
direction  of  the  square.  Hence  I  Avas  able  to  observe  Ron- 
ald's departure,  his  very  disheartened  gait,  and  the  fact 
that  he  was  joined,  about  half-way,  by  no  less  a  man  tlian 
Major  Chevenix.  At  this,  I  could  scarce  keep  from  smil- 
ing ;  so  unpalatable  an  interview  must  be  before  the  pair 
of  them,  and  I  could  liear  their  voices,  clashing  like  crossed 
swords,  in  that  eternal  antiphony  of  "  I  told  you,"  and  "  I 
told  you  not."  Without  doubt,  they  had  gained  very  little 
by  their  visit  ;  but  then  I  had  gained  less  than  nothing, 
and  had  been  bitterly  dispirited  into  the  bargain.  Ronald 
had  stuck  to  his  guns  and  refused  me  to  the  last.  It  was 
no  news  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  could  not  be  contorted 
into  good  news.  I  was  now  certain  that  during  my  tempo- 
rary absence  in  France,  all  irons  would  be  put  into  the  fire, 
and  the  world  turned  upside  down,  to  make  Flora  disown 


316  ST.   IVES  ,    ' 

the  obtrusive  Frenchman  and  accept  Chevenix.  Without 
doubt  she  would  resist  these  instances  ;  but  the  thought  of 
them  did  not  please  me,  and  I  felt  she  should  be  warned 
and  prepared  for  the  battle. 

It  was  no  use  to  try  to  see  her  now,  but  I  promised 
myself  early  that  evening  to  return  to  Swanston.  In  the 
meantime  I  had  to  make  all  my  preparations,  and  look  the 
coming  journey  in  the  face.  Here  in  Edinburgh  I  was 
within  four  miles  of  the  sea,  yet  the  business  of  approach- 
ing random  fishermen  with  my  hat  in  the  one  hand  and  a 
knife  in  the  other,  appeared  so  desperate,  that  I  saw  noth- 
ing for  it  but  to  retrace  my  steps  over  the  northern  coun- 
ties, and  knock  a  second  time  at  the  doors  of  Birchell 
Fenn.  To  do  this,  money  would  be  necessary  ;  and  after 
leaving  my  paper  in  the  hands  of  Flora  I  had  still  a  bal- 
ance of  about  fifteen  hundred  pounds.  Or  rather  I  may 
say  I  had  them  and  I  had  them  not ;  for  after  my  lunch- 
eon with  Mr.  Robbie  I  had  placed  the  amount,  all  but 
thirty  pounds  of  change,  in  a  bank  in  George  Street,  on  a 
deposit  receipt  in  the  name  of  Mr.  Rowley.  This  I  had 
designed  to  be  my  gift  to  him,  in  case  I  must  suddenly 
depart.  But  now,  thinking  better  of  the  arrangement,  I 
despatched  my  little  man,  cockade  and  all,  to  lift  the  fif- 
teen hundred. 

He  was  not  long  gone,  and  returned  with  a  flushed  face 
and  the  deposit  receipt  still  in  his  hand. 

''  No  go,  Mr.  Hann,"  says  he. 

"  How's  that  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  found  the  place  all  right,  and  no  mis- 
take," said  he.  ''  But  I  tell  you  wot  gave  me  a  blue 
fright !  There  was  a  customer  standing  by  the  door,  and 
I  reckonised  him  !  Who  do  you  think  it  was,  Mr.  Anne  : 
W'y,  that  same  Red-Breast — him  I  had  breakfast  with  near 
A.ylesbury." 


EVENTS   OF   TUESDAY  317 

"  Yon  are  sure  you  are  not  mistaken  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Certain  sure/'  he  replied.  "  Not  Mr.  Lavender,  I 
don't  mean,  sir  ;  I  mean  the  other  party.  '  AVot's  he  doin' 
here  ?  '  says  I.     '  It  don't  look  right.'  " 

"  Not  by  any  means,"  I  agreed. 

I  walked  to  and  fro  in  the  apartment  reflecting.  This 
particular  Bow  Street  runner  might  be  here  by  accident ; 
but  it  was  to  imagine  a  singular  play  of  coincidence  that 
he,  who  had  met  Rowley  and  spoken  with  him  in  the 
"  Green  Dragon,"  hard  by  Aylesbury,  should  be  now  in 
Scotland,  where  he  could  have  no  legitimate  business, 
and  by  the  doors  of  the  bank  where  Rowley  kept  his  ac- 
count. 

''  Rowley,"  said  I,  ^'  he  didn't  see  you,  did  he  ?  " 

'^  Never  a  fear,"  quoth  Rowley.  '^  Wy,  Mr.  Anne,  sir, 
if  he  'ad  you  wouldn't  have  seen  me  any  more  !  I  ain't  a 
hass,  sir  ! " 

"  Well,  my  boy,  you  can  put  that  receipt  in  your  pock- 
et. You'll  have  no  more  use  for  it  till  you're  quite  clear 
of  me.  Don't  lose  it,  tliough  ;  it's  your  share  of  the 
Cliristmas-box  :  fifteen  hundred  pounds  all  for  your- 
self." 

''Begging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Anne,  sir,  but  wot  for?" 
said  Rowley. 

''  To  set  up  a  public-house  upon,"  said  I. 

"li  you'll  excuse  me,  sir,  I  ain't  got  any  call  to  set  up 
a  public-house,  sir,"  he  replied  stoutly.  *'  And  1  tell  yoii 
wot,  sir,  it  seems  to  me  I'm  reether  young  for  the  billet. 
I'm  your  body  servant,  Mr.  Anne,  or  else  I'm  nothink." 

"Well,  Rowley,"  I  said,  ''I'll  tell  you  what  it's  for. 
It's  for  the  good  service  you  have  done  me,  of  which  1 
don't  care— and  don't  dare— to  speak.  It's  for  your  loyalty 
and  cheerfulness,  my  dear  boy.  I  had  meant  it  for  you  ; 
but  to  tell  you   the  truth,  it's  past  mending  now— it  has 


318  ST.    IVES 

to  he  yours.     Since  that  man  is  waiting  by  the  bank,  the 
money  can't  be  touched  until  I'm  gone.'' 

''  Until  you're  gone,  sir  ?  "  re-echoed  Rowley.  ''  You 
don't  go  anywheres  without  me,  I  can  tell  you  that,  Mr. 
Anne,  sir  ! " 

''  Yes,  my  boy,"  said  I,  "  we  are  going  to  part  very 
soon  now  ;  probably  to-morrow.  And  it's  for  my  sake, 
Rowley  1  Depend  upon  it,  if  there  was  any  reason  at  all 
for  that  Bow  Street  man  being  at  the  bank,  he  was  not 
there  to  look  out  for  you.  How  they  could  have  found 
out  about  the  account  so  early  is  more  than  I  can  fathom  ; 
some  strange  coincidence  must  have  played  me  false  !  But 
there  the  fact  is  ;  and,  Rowley,  I'll  not  only  have  to  say 
farewell  to  you  presently,  I'll  have  to  ask  you  to  stay  in- 
doors until  I  can  say  it.  Remember,  my  boy,  it's  only  so 
that  you  can  serve  me  now." 

''  W'y,  sir,  you  say  the  word,  and  of  course  I'll  do  it !  " 
he  cried.  '' '  Nothink  by  'alves,'  is  my  motto  !  I'm  your 
man,  through  thick  and  thin,  live  or  die,  I  am  ! " 

In  the  meantime  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  till  towards 
sunset.  My  only  chance  now  was  to  come  again  as  quickly 
as  possible  to  speech  of  Flora,  who  was  my  only  practicable 
banker;  and  not  before  evening  was  it  worth  while  to 
think  of  that.  I  might  compose  myself  as  well  as  I  was  able 
over  the  Caledonian  Mercury,  with  its  ill  news  of  the  cam- 
paign of  France  and  belated  documents  about  the  retreat 
from  Russia ;  and,  as  I  sat  there  by  the  fire,  I  was  some- 
times all  awake  with  anger  and  mortification  at  what 
I  was  reading,  and  sometimes  again  I  would  be  three 
parts  asleep  as  I  dozed  over  the  barren  items  of  home 
intelligence.  ''  Lately  arrived  " — this  is  what  I  suddenly 
stumbled  on— "  at  Dumbreck's  Hotel,  the  Viscount  of 
Saint- Yves." 

''  Rowley,"  said  I. 


EVENTS   OF   TUESDAY  319 

''If  you  please,  Mr.  Anne,  sir/'  answered  the  obsequi- 
ous, lowering  his  pipe. 

"  Come  and  look  at  this,  my  boy,"  said  I,  holding  out 
the  paper. 

''  My  crikey  ! "  said  he.    ''  That's  'im,  sir,  sure  enough  ! " 

"  Sure  enough,  Rowley,"  said  I.  *'  He's  on  the  trail. 
He  has  fairly  caught  up  with  us.  He  and  this  Bow  Street 
man  have  come  together,  I  would  swear.  And  now  here 
is  the  whole  field,  quarry,  hounds  and  hunters,  all  to- 
gether in  this  city  of  Edinburgh." 

"  And  wot  are  you  goin'  to  do  now,  sir  ?  Tell  you  wot, 
let  me  take  it  in  ^md,  please  !  Gimme  a  minute,  and  Til 
disguise  myself,  and  go  out  to  this  Dum — to  this  hotel, 
leastways,  sir — and  see  wot  he's  up  to.  You  put  your 
trust  in  me,  Mr.  Anne  :  I'm  fly,  don't  you  make  no 
mistake  about  it.  I'm  all  a-growing  and  a-blowing,  I 
am." 

''  Not  one  foot  of  you,"  said  I.  ''  You  are  a  prisoner, 
Rowley,  and  make  up  your  mind  to  that.  So  am  I,  or  next 
door  to  it.  I  showed  it  you  for  a  caution  ;  if  you  go  on 
the  streets,  it  spells  death  to  me,  Rowley." 

'^  If  you  please,  sir,"  says  Rowley. 

"  Come  to  think  of  it,"  I  continued,  ''  you  must  take  a 
cold,  or  something.  No  good  of  awakening  Mrs.  McRau- 
kine's  suspicions." 

''A  cold  ?"  he  cried,  recovering  immediately  from  his 
depression.     ''I  can  do  it,  Mr.  Anne." 

And  he  proceeded  to  sneeze  and  cough  and  blow  his 
nose,  till  I  could  not  restrain  myself  from  smiling. 

''  0,  I  tell  you,  I  know  a  lot  of  them  dodges,"  he  ob- 
served proudly. 

"  Well,  they  come  in  very  handy,"  said  I. 

"  I'd  better  go  at  once  and  show  it  to  the  old  gal,  'adn't 
I?"  he  asked. 


320  ST.   IVES 

I  told  him,  by  all  means  ;  and  he  was  gone  upon  the  in- 
stant, gleeful  as  though  to  a  game  of  football. 

I  took  up  the  paper  and  read  carelessly  on,  my  thoughts 
engaged  with  my  immediate  danger,  till  I  struck  on  the 
next  paragraph  : — 

^'In  connection  with  the  recent  horrid  murder  in  the 
Castle,  we  are  desired  to  make  public  the  following  intelli- 
gence. The  soldier,  Champdivers,  is  supposed  to  be  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  this  city.  He  is  about  the  middle 
height  or  rather  under,  of  a  pleasing  appearance  and  highly 
genteel  address.  When  last  heard  of  he  wore  a  fashion- 
able suit  of  pearl-grey,  and  boots  with  fawn-coloured  tops. 
He  is  accompanied  by  a  servant  about  sixteen  years  of  age, 
speaks  English  without  any  accent,  and  passed  under  the 
alias  of  Ramornie.  A  reward  is  offered  for  his  appre- 
hension." 

In  a  moment  I  was  in  the  next  room,  stripping  from  me 
the  pearl-coloured  suit  I 

I  confess  I  was  now  a  good  deal  agitated.  It  is  difficult 
to  watch  the  toils  closing  slowly  and  surely  about  you,  and 
to  retain  your  composure  ;  and  I  was  glad  that  Eowley 
was  not  present  to  spy  on  my  confusion.  I  was  flushed, 
my  breath  came  thick  ;  I  cannot  remember  a  time  when  I 
was  more  put  out. 

And  yet  I  must  wait  and  do  nothing,  and  partake  of  my 
meals,  and  entertain  the  ever-garrulous  Rowley,  as  though 
I  were  entirely  my  own  man.  And  if  I  did  not  require  to 
entertain  Mrs.  McRankine  also,  that  was  but  another  drop 
of  bitterness  in  my  cup  !  For  what  ailed  my  landlady, 
that  3he  should  hold  herself  so  severely  aloof,  that  she 
should  refuse  conversation,  that  her  ej^es  should  be  red- 
dened, that  I  should  so  continually  hear  the  voice  of  her 
private  supplications  sounding  through  the  house  ?  I  was 
much  deceived,  or  she  had  read  the  insidious  paragraph 


EVENTS   OF   TUESDAY  321 

and  recognised  the  comminated  pearl-grey  suit.  I  re- 
membered now  a  certain  air  with  which  she  had  laid  the 
paper  on  my  table,  and  a  certain  sniff,,  between  sympathy 
and  defiance,  Avith  which  she  had  announced  it :  ''  There's 
your  Mercury  for  ye  ! '' 

In  this  direction,  at  least,  I  saw  no  pressing  danger ; 
her  tragic  countenance  betokened  agitation  ;  it  was  phiin 
she  was  wrestling  with  her  conscience,  and  the  battle  still 
hung  dubious.  The  question  of  what  to  do  troubled  me 
extremely.  I  could  not  venture  to  touch  such  an  intricate 
and  mysterious  piece  of  machinery  as  my  landlady's  spirit- 
ual nature  ;  it  might  go  off  at  a  word,  and  in  any  direction, 
like  a  badly-made  firework.  And  while  I  praised  myself 
extremely  for  my  wisdom  in  the  past,  that  I  had  made  so 
much  a  friend  of  her,  I  was  all  abroad  as  to  my  conduct  in 
the  present.  There  seemed  an  equal  danger  in  pressing 
and  in  neglecting  the  accustomed  marks  of  familiarity. 
The  one  extreme  looked  like  impudence,  and  might  an- 
noy ;  the  other  was  a  practical  confession  of  guilt.  Alto- 
gether, it  was  a  good  hour  for  me  when  the  dusk  began  to 
fall  in  earnest  on  the  streets  of  Edinburgh,  and  the  voice 
of  an  early  watchman  bade  me  set  forth. 

I  reached  the  neighbourhood  of  the  cottage  before  seven  ; 
and  as  I  breasted  the  steep  ascent  which  leads  to  the  gar- 
den wall,  I  was  struck  with  surprise  to  hear  a  dog.  Dogs 
I  had  heard  before,  but  only  from  the  hamlet  on  the  hill- 
side above.  Now,  this  dog  was  in  the  garden  itself,  where 
it  roared  aloud  in  paroxysms  of  fury,  and  I  could  hear  it 
leaping  and  straining  on  the  chain.  I  waited  some  while, 
until  the  brute's  fit  of  passion  had  roared  itself  out.  Then, 
with  the  utmost  precaution,  I  drew  near  again,  and  finally 
approached  the  garden  wall.  So  soon  as  I  had  clapped  my 
head  above  the  level,  however,  the  barking  broke  forth 
again  with  redoubled  energy.  Almost  at  the  same  time, 
31 


322  ST.  ivKS 

the  door  of  the  cottage  opened,  and  Konald  and  the  Major 
appeared  upon  the  threshold  with  a  lantern.  As  they  so 
stood,  they  were  almost  immediately  below  me,  strongly 
illuminated,  and  within  easy  earshot.  The  Major  paci- 
fied the  dog,  who  took  instead  to  low,  uneasy  growling  in- 
termingled with  occasional  yelps. 

''  Good  thing  I  brought  Towzer  !  "  said  Chevenix. 

''Damn  him,  I  wonder  where  he  is  !"  said  Ronald  ;  and 
he  moved  the  lantern  up  and  down,  and  turned  the  night 
into  a  shifting  puzzle-work  of  gleam  and  shadow.  ''I 
think  I'll  make  a  sally." 

''  I  don't  think  you  will,"  replied  Chevenix.  ''  When  I 
agreed  to  come  out  here  and  do  sentry-go,  it  was  on  one 
condition.  Master  Ronald  :  don't  you  forget  that !  Mili- 
tary discipline,  my  boy  !  Our  beat  is  this  path  close  about 
the  house.  Down,  Towzer  I  good  boy,  good  boy— gently, 
then  I "  he  went  on,  caressing  his  confounded  monster. 

"  To  think  !  The  beggar  may  be  hearing  us  this  min- 
ute ! "  cried  Ronald. 

"Nothing  more  probable,"  said  the  Major.  "You 
there,  St.  Ives  ?"  he  added,  in  a  distinct  but  guarded 
voice.  "I  only  Avant  to  tell  you,  you  had  better  go  home. 
Mr.  Gilchrist  and  I  take  watch  and  watch." 

The  game  was  up.  "  Bemicou])  de  plaisir  I "  I  replied, 
in  the  same  tones.  "//  fait  un  jjeu  froid  pour  veiller  ; 
(jardcz-vous  des  engelurcs  !  " 

I  suppose  it  was  done  in  a  moment  of  ungovernable 
rage  ;  but  in  spite  of  the  excellent  advice  he  had  given  to 
Ronald  the  moment  before,  Chevenix  slipped  the  chain, 
and  the  dog  sprang,  straight  as  an  arrow,  up  the  bank.  I 
stepped  back,  picked  up  a  stone  of  about  twelve  pounds 
weight,  and  stood  ready.  With  a  bound  the  beast  landed 
on  the  cope-stone  of  the  wall ;  and,  almost  in  the  same  in- 
stant, my  missile  caught  him  fair  in  the  face.     He  gave  a 


EVENTS    OF   TUESDAY  323 

stifled  cry,  went  tumbling  back  where  he  had  come  from, 
and  I  could  hear  tlie  twelve-pounder  accompany  him  in  his 
fall.  Chevenix,  at  the  same  moment,  broke  out  in  a  roar- 
ing voice  :  ^'  The  hell-hound  !  If  he's  killed  my  dog  I  " 
and  I  judged,  upon  all  grounds,  it  was  as  well  to  be  off. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

EVENTS   OF   WEDNESDAY  ;    THE   UXIYERSITT   OF   CRAMOXD 

I  AWOKE  to  much  diflfidence,  even  to  a  feeling  that 
might  be  called  the  beginnings  of  panic,  and  lay  for  hours 
in  my  bed  considering  the  situation.  Seek  where  I  pleased, 
there  was  nothing  to  encourage  me  and  plenty  to  appal. 
They  kept  a  close  watch  about  the  cottage  ;  they  had  a 
beast  of  a  watch-dog — at  least,  unless  I  had  settled  it;  and 
if  I  had,  I  knew  its  bereaved  master  would  only  watch  the 
more  indefatigably  for  the  loss.  In  the  pardonable  osten- 
tation of  love  I  had  given  all  the  money  I  could  spare  to 
Flora  ;  I  had  thought  it  glorious  that  the  hunted  exile 
should  come  down,  like  Jupiter,  in  a  shower  of  gold,  and 
pour  thousands  in  the  lap  of  the  beloved.  Then  I  had  in 
an  hour  of  arrant  folly  buried  what  remained  to  me  in  a 
bank  in  George  Street.  And  now  I  must  get  back  the  one 
or  the  other  ;  and  which  ?  and  how  ? 

As  I  tossed  in  my  bed,  I  could  see  three  possible  courses, 
all  extremely  perilous.  First,  Rowley  might  have  been 
mistaken  ;  the  bank  might  not  be  watched  ;  it  might  still 
be  possible  for  him  to  draw  the  money  on  the  deposit  re- 
ceipt. Second,  I  might  apply  again  to  Robbie.  Or,  third, 
I  might  dare  everything,  go  to  the  Assembly  Ball,  and 
speak  with  Flora  under  the  eyes  of  all  Edinburgh.  This 
last  alternative,  involving  as  it  did  the  most  horrid  risks, 
and  the  delay  of  forty-eight  hours,  I  did  but  glance  at  with 
an  averted  head,  and  turned  again  to  the  consideration  of 

334 


EVENTS   OF  WEDNESDAY  325 

the  others.  It  was  the  likeliest  thing  in  the  world  that 
Eobbie  had  been  warned  to  have  no  more  to  do  with  me. 
The  whole  policy  of  the  Gilchrists  was  in  the  hands  of 
Chevenix  ;  and  I  thought  this  was  a  precaution  so  elemen- 
tary that  he  was  certain  to  have  taken  it.  If  he  had  not,  of 
course  I  was  all  right  :  Robbie  Avould  manage  to  communi- 
cate with  Flora ;  and  by  four  o'clock  I  might  be  on  the 
south  road  and,  I  was  going  to  say,  a  free  man.  Lastly,  I 
must  assure  myself  with  my  own  eyes  whether  the  bank  in 
George  Street  were  beleaguered. 

I  called  to  Rowley  and  questioned  him  tightly  as  to  the 
appearance  of  the  Bow  Street  officer. 

^^  What  sort  of  looking  man  is  he,  Rowley  ? ''  1  asked, 
as  I  began  to  dress. 

'^Wot  sort  of  a  looking  man  he  is  ?"  repeated  Rowley. 
*'  Well,  I  don't  very  well  know  wot  you  would  say,  Mr. 
Anne.     He  ain't  a  beauty,  any'ow." 

^as  he  tall?" 

''  Tall  ?     Well,  no,  I  shouldn't  say  tall,  Mr.  Anne." 

''  Well,  then,  is  he  short  ?  " 

^'  Short  ?  No,  I  don't  think  I  would  say  he  was  what 
you  would  call  sJtort.     No,  not  piticular  short,  sir." 

^'  Then,  I  suppose,  he  must  be  about  the  middle 
height?" 

''Well,  you  might  say  it,  sir  ;  but  not  remarkable  so." 

I  smothered  an  oath. 

''  Is  he  clean-shaved  ?"  I  tried  him  again. 

*' Clean-shaved  ? "  he  repeated,  with  the  same  air  of 
anxious  candour. 

"  Good  heaven,  man,  don't  repeat  my  words  like  a  par- 
rot !  "  I  cried.  ''  Tell  me  what  the  man  was  like  :  it  is  of 
the  first  importance  that  I  should  be  able  to  recognise 
him." 

''  I'm  trying  to,  Mr.  Anne.     But  cleati  shaved?    I  don't 


326  ST.  IVES 

seem  to  rightly  get  hold  of  that  p'int.  Sometimes  it  might 
appear  to  me  like  as  if  he  was  ;  and  sometimes  like  as  if 
he  wasn't.  Xo,  it  wouldn't  surprise  me  now  if  you  was  to 
tell  me  he  'ad  a  bit  o'  whisker." 

''Was  the  man  red-faced  ?"  I  roared,  dwelling  on  each 
syllable. 

''I  don't  think  you  need  go  for  to  get  cross  about  it, 
Mr.  Anne  I"  said  he.  ''I'm  tellin'  you  every  blessed 
thing  I  see  !  Red-faced  ?  AVell,  no,  not  as  you  would  re- 
mark upon." 

A  dreadful  calm  fell  upon  me. 

"  Was  he  anywise  pale  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  it  don't  seem  to  me  as  though  he  were.  But  I 
tell  you  truly,  I  didn't  take  much  heed  to  that." 

"  Did  he  look  like  a  drinking  man  ?" 

"Well,  no.  If  you  please,  sir,  he  looked  more  like  an 
eating  one." 

"  0,  he  was  stout,  was  he  ?  " 

"  Xo,  sir.  I  couldn't  go  so  far  as  that.  Xo,  he  wasn't 
not  to  say  stout.     If  anything,  lean  rather." 

I  need  not  go  on  with  the  infuriating  interview.  It 
ended  as  it  began,  except  that  Rowley  was  in  tears,  and 
that  I  had  acquired  one  fact.  The  man  was  drawn  for  me 
as  being  of  any  height  you  like  to  mention,  and  of  any  de- 
gree of  corpulence  or  leanness  ;  clean  shaved  or  not,  as  the 
case  might  be  ;  the  colour  of  his  hair  Rowley  "  could  not 
take  it  upon  himself  to  put  a  name  on  "  ;  that  of  his  eyes 
he  thought  to  have  been  blue — nay,  it  was"  the  one  point 
on  which  he  attained  to  a  kind  of  tearful  certainty.  "  I'll 
take  my  davy  on  it,"  he  asseverated.  They  proved  to  have 
been  as  black  as  sloes,  very  little  and  very  near  together. 
So  much  for  the  evidence  of  the  artless  I  And  the  fact,  or 
rather  the  facts,  acquired  ?  AVell,  they  had  to  do  not  with 
the  person  but  with  his  clothing.     The  man  wore  knee- 


EVENTS    OF   WEDNESDAY  327 

breeches  and  white  stockings  ;  his  coat  was  '"some  kind  of 
a  lightish  colour — or  betwixt  that  and  dark  "  ;  and  he 
wore  a  '' moleskin  weskit."  As  if  this  were  not  enouirh, 
he  presently  haled  me  from  my  breakfast  in  a  prodigious 
flutter,  and  showed  me  an  honest  and  rather  venerable 
citizen  passing  in  the  square. 

'^'That's  Mm,  sir,"  he  cried,  *''■  the  very  moral  of  him  ! 
Well,  this  one  is  better  dressed,  and  pVaps  a  trifle  taller  ; 
and  in  the  face  he  don't  favour  him  noways  at  all,  sir.  Xo, 
not  when  I  come  to  look  again,  'e  don't  seem  to  favour 
him  noways." 

^'Jackass  !''  said  I,  and  I  think  the  greatest  stickler  for 
manners  will  admit  the  epithet  to  have  been  justified. 

Meanwhile  the  aj^pearance  of  my  landlady  added  a  great 
load  of  anxiety  to  what  I  already  suffered.  It  was  plain 
that  she  had  not  slept  ;  equally  plain  that  she  had  wept 
copiously.  She  sighed,  she  groaned,  she  drew  in  her 
breath,  she  shook  her  head,  as  she  waited  on  table.  \\\ 
short,  she  seemed  in  so  precarious  a  state,  like  a  petard 
three  times  charged  with  hysteria,  that  I  did  not  dare  to 
address  her  ;  and  stole  out  of  the  house  on  tiptoe,  and 
actually  ran  downstairs,  in  the  fear  that  she  might  call  me 
back.  It  was  plain  that  this  degree  of  tension  could  not 
last  long. 

It  was  my  first  care  to  go  to  George  Street,  which  I 
reached  (by  good  luck)  as  a  boy  was  taking  down  the  bank 
shutters.  A  man  was  conversing  with  him  ;  he  had  white 
stockings  and  a  moleskin  waistcoat,  and  was  as  ill-looking 
a  rogue  as  you  would  want  to  see  in  a  day's  journey.  This 
seemed  to  agree  fairly  well  with  Rowley's  signalement :  he 
had  declared  emphatically  (if  you  remember),  and  had 
stuck  to  it  besides,  that  the  companion  of  the  great  Laven- 
der was  no  beauty. 

Thence  I  made  my  way  to  Mr.  Robbie's,  where  I  i....g 


328  ST.  IVES 

tlie  bell.     A  servant  answered  the  summons,  and  told  me 
the  lawyer  was  engaged,  as  I  had  half  expected. 

^' Wha  shall  I  say  was  callin'  ?''  she  pursued  ;  and  when 
I  had  told  her  "  Mr.  Ducie/'  "  I  think  this'll  be  for  you, 
then  ? ''  she  added,  and  handed  me  a  letter  from  the  hall 
table.     It  ran  : 

"  Dear  Mr.  Ducie, 
"My  single  advice  to  you  is  to  leave  quam primum  for  the  South. 

''Yours,  T.  KoBBiE," 

That  was  short  and  sweet.  It  emphatically  extinguished 
hope  in  one  direction.  No  more  was  to  be  gotten  of 
Robbie  ;  and  I  wondered,  from  my  heart,  how  much  had 
been  told  him.  Not  too  much,  I  hoped,  for  I  liked  the 
lawyer  who  had  thus  deserted  me,  and  I  placed  a  certain 
reliance  in  the  discretion  of  Chevenix.  He  would  not  be 
merciful ;  on  the  other  hand,  I  did  not  think  he  would  be 
cruel  without  cause. 

It  was  my  next  affair  to  go  back  along  George  Street, 
and  assure  myself  whether  the  man  in  the  moleskin  vest 
was  still  on  guard.  There  was  no  sign  of  him  on  the 
pavement.  Spying  the  door  of  a  common  stair  nearly  op- 
posite the  bank,  I  took  it  in  my  head  that  this  would  be 
a  good  point  of  observation,  crossed  the  street,  entered  with 
a  businesslike  air,  and  fell  immediately  against  the  man  in 
the  moleskin  vest.  I  stopped  and  apologised  to  him  ;  he 
replied  in  an  unmistakable  English  accent,  thus  putting 
the  matter  almost  beyond  doubt.  After  this  encounter  I 
must,  of  course,  ascend  to  the  top  story,  ring  the  bell  of  a 
suite  of  apartments,  inquire  for  Mr.  Vavasour,  learn  (with 
no  great  surprise)  that  he  did  not  live  there,  come  down 
again  and,  again  politely  saluting  the  man  from  Bow 
Street,  make  my  escape  at  last  into  the  street. 

I  was  now  driven  back  upon  the  Assembly  Ball.     Robbie 


EVENTS   OF   WEDNESDAY  329 

had  failed  me.  Tlie  bank  was  watched  ;  it  woukl  nevfr 
do  to  risk  Rowley  in  that  neighbourhood.  All  I  could  do 
was  to  wait  until  the  morrow  evening,  and  present  myself 
at  the  Assembly,  let  it  end  as  it  might.  But  I  must  say 
I  came  to  this  decision  with  a  good  deal  of  genuine  fright; 
and  here  I  came  for  the  first  time  to  one  of  those  places 
where  my  courage  stuck.  I  do  not  mean  that  my  courage 
boggled  and  made  a  bit  of  a  bother  over  it,  as  it  did  over 
the  escape  from  the  Castle  ;  I  mean,  stuck,  like  a  ^topi)ed 
watch  or  a  dead  man.  Certainly  I  would  go  to  the  ball  ; 
certainly  I  must  see  this  morning  about  my  clothes.  That 
was  all  decided.  But  the  most  of  the  shops  were  on  tlie 
other  side  of  the  valley,  in  the  Old  Town ;  and  it  was  now 
my  strange  discovery  that  I  was  physically  unable  to  cross 
the  North  Bridge  !  It  was  as  though  a  precipice  had  stood 
between  us,  or  the  deep  sea  had  intervened.  Nearer  to  the 
Castle  my  legs  refused  to  bear  me. 

I  told  myself  this  was  mere  superstition  ;  I  made  wagers 
with  myself — and  gained  them  ;  I  went  down  on  the  es- 
planade of  Princes  Street,  walked  and  stood  there,  alone 
and  conspicuous,  looking  across  the  garden  at  the  old  grey 
bastions  of  the  fortress,  where  all  these  troubles  had  be- 
gun. I  cocked  my  hat,  set  my  hand  on  my  hip,  and  swag- 
gered on  the  pavement,  confronting  detection.  And  I 
found  I  could  do  all  this  with  a  sense  of  exhihiration  that 
was  not  unpleasing,  and  with  a  certain  cranerie  of  manner 
that  raised  me  in  my  own  esteem.  And  yet  there  was  one 
thing  I  could  not  bring  my  mind  to  face  up  to,  or  my 
limbs  to  execute  ;  and  that  was  to  cross  the  valley  into  the 
Old  Town.  It  seemed  to  me  I  must  be  arrested  immedi- 
ately if  I  had  done  so  ;  I  must  go  straight  into  the  twi- 
light of  a  prison  cell,  and  pass  straight  thence  to  the 
gross  and  final  embraces  of  the  nightcap  and  the  hal- 
ter.    And  yet  it  was  from  no  reasoned  fear  of  the  am- 


330  ST.    IVES 

sequences  that  I  could  not  go.  I  was  unable.  My  horse 
baulked,  and  there  was  an  end  ! 

My  nerve  was  gone  :  here  was  a  discovery  for  a  man  in 
such  imminent  peril,  set  down  to  so  desperate  a  game, 
which  I  could  only  liope  to  win  by  continual  luck  and  un- 
flagging effrontery  !  The  strain  had  been  too  long  con- 
tinued, and  my  nerve  was  gone.  I  fell  into  what  they  call 
panic  fear,  as  I  have  seen  soldiers  do  on  the  alarm  of  a 
night  attack,  and  turned  out  of  Princes  Street  at  random 
as  though  the  devil  were  at  my  heels.  In  St.  Andrew's 
Square,  I  remember  vaguely  hearing  some  one  call  out.  I 
paid  no  heed,  but  pressed  on  blindly.  A  moment  after,  a 
hand  fell  heavily  on  my  shoulder,  and  I  thought  I  had 
fainted.  Certainly  the  world  went  black  about  me  for 
some  seconds  ;  and  when  that  spasm  passed  I  found  myself 
standing  face  to  face  with  the  "  cheerful  extravagant,"  in 
what  sort  of  disarray  I  really  dare  not  imagine,  dead  white 
at  least,  shaking  like  an  aspen,  and  mowing  at  the  man 
with  speechless  lips.  And  this  was  the  soldier  of  Napoleon, 
and  the  gentleman  who  intended  going  next  night  to  an 
Assembly  Ball !  I  am  the  more  particular  in  telling  of  my 
breakdown,  because  it  was  my  only  experience  of  the  "^ort ; 
and  it  is  a  good  tale  for  officers.  I  will  allow  no  man  to 
call  me  coward  ;  I  have  made  my  proofs  ;  few  men  more. 
And  yet  I  (come  of  the  best  blood  in  France  and  inured  to 
danger  from  a  child)  did,  for  some  ten  or  twenty  minutes, 
make  this  hideous  exhibition  of  myself  on  the  streets  of 
tlie  New  Town  of  Edinburgh. 

With  my  first  available  breath  I  begged  his  pardon.  I 
was  of  an  extremely  nervous  disposition,  recently  increased 
by  late  hours  ;  I  could  not  bear  the  slightest  start. 

He  seemed  much  concerned.  "  You  must  be  in  a  devil 
of  a  state  !  "  said  he  ;  ^'though  of  course  it  was  my  fault 
— damnably  silly,  vulgar  sort  of  thing  to  do  !    A  thousand 


EVENTS   OF   WEDNESDAY  331 

apologies  !  But  you  really  must  be  run  down  ;  you  should 
consult  a  medico.  My  dear  sir,  a  hair  of  the  dog  tliat  bit 
you  is  clearly  indicated.  A  touch  of  Blue  Ivuin,  now  ? 
Or,  come  :  it's  early,  but  is  man  the  slave  of  hours  ?  what 
do  you  say  to  a  chop  and  a  bottle  in  Dumbreck's  Hotel  ?  '* 

I  refused  all  false  comfort  ;  but  when  he  went  on  to  re- 
mind me  that  this  was  the  day  when  the  University  of 
Cramond  met ;  and  to  propose  a  five-mile  walk  into  the 
country  and  a  dinner  in  the  company  of  young  asses  like 
himself,  I  began  to  think  otherwise.  I  had  to  wait  until 
to-morrow  evening,  at  any  rate  ;  this  might  serve  as  well 
as  anything  else  to  bridge  the  dreary  hours.  The  country 
was  the  very  place  for  me  ;  and  walking  is  an  excellent 
sedative  for  the  nerves.  Remembering  poor  Rowley,  feign- 
ing a  cold  in  our  lodgings  and  immediately  under  the  guns 
of  the  formidable  and  now  doubtful  Bethiah,  I  asked  if  I 
might  bring  my  servant.  '^  Poor  devil !  it  is  dull  for  him,'' 
I  explained. 

•^^The  merciful  man  is  merciful  to  his  ass,"  observed  my 
sententious  friend.     "  Bring  him  by  all  means  ! 

'  The  harp,  his  sole  remaining  joy, 
Was  carried  by  an  orphan  boy ;  ' 

and  I  have  no  doubt  the  orphan  boy  can  get  some  cold 
victuals  in  the  kitchen,  while  the  Senatus  dines." 

Accordingly,  being  now  quite  recovered  from  my  un- 
manly condition,  except  that  nothing  could  yet  induce  me 
to  cross  the  Xorth  Bridge,  I  arranged  for  my  ball  dress  at 
a  shop  in  Leith  Street,  where  I  was  not  served  ill,  cut  out 
Rowley  from  his  seclusion,  and  was  ready  along  with  him 
at  the  trysting-place,  the  corner  of  Duke  Street  and  York 
Place,  by  a  little  after  two.  The  University  was  repre- 
sented in  force  :  eleven  persons,  including  ourselves,  Byfield 
the  aeronaut,  and  the  tall  lad,  Forbes,  whom  I  had  met  on 


332  ST.  IVES 

the  Sunday  morning,  bedewed  witli  tallow^  at  the  "  Hun- 
ters'Rest."  I  was  introduced  ;  and  we  set  off  by  way  of 
Newhaven  and  the  sea  beach  ;  at  first  through  pleasant 
country  roads,  and  afterwards  along  a  succession  of  bays  of 
a  fairylike  prettiness,  to  our  destination — Craniond  on  the 
Almond— a  little  hamlet  on  a  little  river,  embowered  in 
woods,  and  looking  forth  over  a  great  flat  of  quicksand  to 
where  a  little  islet  stood  planted  in  the  sea.  It  was  min- 
iature scenery,  but  charming  of  its  kind.  The  air  of  this 
good  February  afternoon  was  bracing,  but  not  cold.  All 
the  way  my  companions  were  skylarking,  jesting,  and 
making  puns,  and  I  felt  as  if  a  load  had  been  taken  off  my 
lungs  and  spirits,  and  skylarked  with  the  best  of  them. 

Byfield  I  observed,  because  I  had  heard  of  him  before, 
and  seen  his  advertisements,  not  at  all  because  I  was  dis- 
posed to  feel  interest  in  the  man.  He  was  dark  and  bilious 
and  very  silent ;  frigid  in  his  manners,  but  burning  in- 
ternally with  a  great  fire  of  excitement ;  and  he  was  so 
.good  as  to  bestow  a  good  deal  of  his  company  and  conver- 
;sation  (such  as  it  was)  upon  myself,  who  was  not  in  the 
least  grateful.  If  I  had  known  how  I  was  to  be  connected 
^vith  him  in  the  immediate  future,  I  might  have  taken 
more  pains. 

In  the  hamlet  of  Cramond  there  is  a  hostelry  of  no  very 
promising  appearance,  and  here  a  room  had  been  prepared 
for  us,  and  we  sat  down  to  table. 

''  Here  you  will  find  no  guttling  or  gormandising,  no 
turtle  or  nightingales'  tongues,"  said  the  extravagant, 
whose  name,  by  the  way,  was  Dalmahoy.  "  The  device, 
sir,  of  the  University  of  Cramond  is  Plain  Living  and 
High  Drinking." 

Grace  w^as  said  by  the  Professor  of  Divinity,  in  a  maca- 
ronic Latin,  which  I  could  by  no  means  follow,  only  I  could 
hear  it  rhymed,  and  I  guessed  it  to  be  more  witty  than 


EVENTS   OF   WEDNESDAY  333 

reverent.  After  which  the  Senatus  Academiciis  sat  down 
to  rough  plenty  in  the  shape  of  rizzar'd  haddocks  and 
mustard,  a  sheep's  head,  a  haggis,  and  other  delicacies  of 
Scotland.  The  dinner  was  washed  down  with  brown 
stout  in  bottle,  and  as  soon  as  the  cloth  was  removed, 
glasses,  boiling  water,  sugar,  and  whisky  were  set  out  for 
the  manufacture  of  toddy.  I  played  a  good  knife  and  fork, 
did  not  shun  the  bowl,  and  took  part,  so  far  as  I  was  able, 
in  the  continual  fire  of  pleasantry  with  which  the  meal  was 
seasoned.  Greatly  daring,  I  ventured,  before  all  these 
Scotsmen,  to  tell  Sim's  Tale  of  Tweedie's  dog  ;  and  I  was 
held  to  have  done  such  extraordinary  justice  to  the  dialect, 
'*^for  a  Southron,''  that  I  was  immediately  voted  into  the 
Chair  of  Scots,  and  became,  from  that  moment,  a  full 
member  of  the  University  of  Cramond.  A  little  after,  I 
found  myself  entertaining  them  with  a  song  ;  and  a  little 
after — perhaps  a  little  in  consequence — it  occurred  to  me 
that  I  had  had  enough,  and  would  be  very  well  inspired  to 
take  French  leave.  It  was  not  difficult  to  manage,  for  it 
was  nobody's  business  to  observe  my  movements,  and  con- 
viviality had  banished  suspicion. 

I  got  easily  forth  of  the  chamber,  which  reverberated 
with  the  voices  of  these  merry  and  learned  gentlemen,  and 
breathed  a  long  breath.  I  had  passed  an  agreeable  after- 
noon and  evening,  and  I  had  apparently  escaped  scot  free. 
Alas  !  when  I  looked  into  the  kitchen,  there  was  my 
monkey,  drunk  as  a  lord,  toppling  on  the  edge  of  the 
dresser,  and  performing  on  the  flageolet  to  an  audience  of 
the  house  lasses  and  some  neighbouring  plouglimen. 

I  routed  him  promptly  from  his  perch,  stuck  his  hat  on, 
put  his  instrument  in  his  pocket,  and  set  off  with  him  for 
Edinburgh.  His  limbs  were  of  paper,  his  mind  quite  in 
abeyance  ;  I  must  uphold  and  guide  him,  prevent  his  fran- 
tic dives,  and  set  him  continually  on  his  legs  again.     At 


334  ST.   IVES 

first  he  sang  wildly,  with  occasional  outbursts  of  causeless 
laughter.  Gradually  an  inarticulate  melancholy  succeeded  ; 
he  wept  gently  at  times ;  would  stop  in  the  middle  of  the 
road,  say  firmly  "  No,  no,  no,"  and  then  fall  on  his  back  : 
or  else  address  me  solemnly  as  "  M'lord,"  and  fall  on  his 
face  by  way  of  variety.  I  am  afraid  I  was  not  always  so 
gentle  with  the  little  pig  as  I  might  have  been,  but  really 
the  position  was  unbearable.  We  made  no  headway  at  all, 
and  I  suppose  we  were  scarce  gotten  a  mile  away  from  Cra- 
mond,  when  the  whole  Senatus  Academicus  was  heard 
hailing,  and  doubling  the  pace  to  overtake  us. 

Some  of  them  were  fairly  presentable  ;  and  they  were  all 
Christian  martyrs  compared  to  Rowley  :  but  they  were  in 
a  frolicsome  and  rollicking  humour  that  promised  danger 
as  we  approached  the  town.  They  sang  songs,  they  ran 
races,  they  fenced  with  their  walking-sticks  and  umbrellas  ; 
and,  in  spite  of  this  violent  exercise,  the  fun  grew  only  the 
more  extravagant  with  the  miles  they  traversed.  Their 
drunkenness  was  deep-seated  and  permanent,  like  fire  in  a 
peat ;  or  rather — to  be  quite  just  to  them — it  was  not  so 
much  to  be  called  drunkenness  at  all,  as  the  effect  of  youth 
and  high  spirits — a  fine  night,  and  the  night  young,  a  good 
road  under  foot,  and  the  world  before  you  ! 

I  had  left  them  once  somewhat  unceremoniously  ;  I 
could  not  attempt  it  a  second  time  ;  and,  burthened  as  I 
was  with  Mr.  Rowley,  I  was  really  ghid  of  assistance.  But 
I  saw  the  lamps  of  Edinburgh  draw  near  on  their  hill-top 
with  a  good  deal  of  uneasiness,  which  increased,  after  we 
had  entered  the  lighted  streets,  to  positive  alarm.  All  the 
passers-by  were  addressed,  some  of  them  by  name.  A 
worthy  man  was  stopped  by  Forbes.  "  Sir,''  said  he,  ''  in 
the  name  of  the  Senatus  of  the  University  of  Cramond,  I 
confer  upon  you  the  degree  of  LL.D.,"and  with  the  words 
he  bonneted  him.     Conceive  the  predicament  of  St.  Ives, 


EVENTS   OF    WEDNESDAY  335 

committed  to  the  society  of  these  outrageous  youths,  in  a 
town  where  the  police  and  his  cousin  were  both  looking  for 
him  !  So  far,  we  had  pursued  our  way  unmolested,  although 
raising  a  clamour  fit  to  wake  the  dead  ;  but  at  last,  in 
Abercromby  Place,  I  believe— at  least  it  was  a  crescent  of 
highly  respectable  houses  fronting  on  a  garden — Byfield 
and  I,  having  fallen  somewhat  in  the  rear  with  Kowley, 
came  to  a  simultaneous  halt.  Our  ruffians  were  beginning 
to  wrench  off  bells  and  door-plates  ! 

*'  0,  I  say  !  "  says  Byfield,  "  this  is  too  much  of  a  good 
thing  !  Confound  it,  I'm  a  respectable  man— a  public 
character,  by  George  !  I  can't  afford  to  get  taken  up  by 
the  police/' 

''  My  own  case  exactly,"  said  I. 

"  Here,  let's  bilk  them,"  said  he. 

And  we  turned  back  and  took  our  way  down  hill  again. 

It  was  none  too  soon  :  voices  and  alarm-bells  sounded  ; 
watchmen  here  and  there  began  to  spring  tlieir  rattles  ;  it 
was  plain  the  University  of  Cramond  would  soon  be  at 
blows  with  the  police  of  Edinburgh  !  Byfield  and  I,  run- 
ning the  semi-inanimate  Eowley  before  us,  made  good  de- 
spatch, and  did  not  stop  till  we  were  several  streets  away, 
and  the  hubbub  was  already  softened  by  distance. 

^'  Well,  sir,"  said  he,  ^'  we  are  well  out  of  that  I  Did 
ever  any  one  see  such  a  pack  of  young  barbarians  ?" 

"  We  are  properly  punished,  Mr.  Byfield  ;  we  had  no 
business  there,"  I  replied. 

''No,  indeed,  sir,  you  may  well  say  that  !  Outrageous  ! 
And  my  ascension  announced  for  Friday,  you  know  I " 
cried  the  aeronaut.  ''A  pretty  scandal  !  Byfield  the  aero- 
naut at  the  police-court  !  Tut-tut  !  Will  you  be  able  to 
get  your  rascal  home,  sir  ?  Allow  me  to  offer  you  my  card. 
I  am  staying  at  Walker  and  Poole's  Hotel,  sir,  where  I 
should  be  pleased  to  see  you." 


336  ST.  IVES 

"  The  pleasure  would  be  mutual,  sir/'  said  I ;  but  I  must 
say  my  heart  was  not  in  my  words,  and  as  I  watched  Mr. 
Byfield  departing,  I  desired  nothing  less  than  to  pursue 
the  acquaintance. 

One  more  ordeal  remained  for  me  to  pass.  I  carried  my 
senseless  load  upstairs  to  our  lodging,  and  was  admitted  by 
the  landlady  in  a  tall  white  nightcap  and  with  an  expres- 
sion singularly  grim.  She  lighted  us  into  the  sitting- 
room  ;  Avhere,  when  I  had  seated  Rowley  in  a  chair,  she 
dropped  me  a  cast-iron  courtesy.  I  smelt  gunpowder  on 
the  woman.     Her  voice  tottered  with  emotion. 

''I  give  ye  nottice,  Mr.  Ducie,''  said  she.  '' Dacent 
folks'  houses     .     .     ." 

And  at  that  apparently  temper  cut  off  her  utterance, 
and  she  took  herself  off  without  more  words. 

I  looked  about  me  at  the  room,  the  goggling  Rowley, 
the  extinguished  fire  ;  my  mind  reviewed  the  laughable  in- 
cidents of  the  day  and  night ;  and  I  laughed  out  loud  to 
myself — lonely  and  cheerless,  laughter  ! 

\^At  this  point  the  story  as  written  by  Mr.  Stevenson  breaks  ojf,  and 
the  remaining  chapters  are  the  work  of  Mr.  Quiller-Couch.] 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

EVEN'TS   OF   THURSDAY  :   THE   ASSEMBLY   BALL 

But  I  awoke  to  the  chill  reminder  of  chiwn,  Jiiid  found 
myself  no  master  even  of  cheerless  mirth.  I  had  siipj^ed 
with  the  Senatus  Academictis  of  Craniond  :  so  much  my 
head  informed  me.  It  was  Thursday,  the  day  of  the 
Assembly  Ball.  But  the  ball  was  fixed  by  the  card  for 
8  P.M.,  and  I  had,  therefore,  twelve  mortal  hours  to  wear 
through  as  best  I  could.  Doubtless  it  was  this  reflection 
which  prompted  me  to  leap  out  of  bed  instanter  and  ring 
for  Mr.  Rowley  and  my  shaving  water. 

Mr.  Rowley,  it  appeared,  was  in  no  such  hurry.  I 
tugged  a  second  time  at  the  bell-rope.  A  groan  answered 
me  :  and  there  in  the  doorway  stood,  or  rather  titubated, 
my  paragon  of  body-servants.  He  was  collarless,  nnkempt ; 
his  face  a  tinted  map  of  shame  and  bodily  disorder.  His 
hand  shook  on  the  hot- water  can,  and  spilled  its  contents 
into  his  shoes.  I  opened  on  him  with  a  tirade,  but  had  no 
heart  to  continue.  The  fault,  after  all,  was  mine  :  and  it 
argued  something  like  heroism  in  the  lad  that  he  had 
fought  his  nausea  down  and  come  up  to  time. 

''  But  not  smiling,"  I  assured  him. 

''  0,  please,  Mr.  Anne.  Go  on,  sir ;  I  deserve  it. 
But  I'll  never  do  it  again,  strike  me  sky-blue  scarlet  ! " 

''  In  so  far  as  that  differed  from  your  present  colouring, 
I  believe,''  said  I,  ''  it  would  be  an  improvement.'' 
23  337 


338  ST.  IVES 

*'  Never  again,  Mr.  Anne.'' 

''Certainly  not,  Rowley.  Even  to  good  men  this  may 
happen  once  :  beyond  that,  carelessness  shades  off  into 
depravity. '' 

''Yessir.^' 

''You  gave  a  good  deal  of  trouble  last  night.  I  have 
yet  to  meet  Mrs.  McRankine.'" 

"As  for  that,  Mr.  Anne,"  said  he,  with  an  incongruous 
twinkle  in  his  bloodshot  eye,  "  she've  been  up  with  a  tray  : 
dry  toast  and  a  pot  of  tea.  The  old  gal's  bark  is  worse 
than  her  bite,  sir,  begging  your  pardon,  and  meaning  as 
she's  a  decent  one,  she  is." 

"I  was  fearing  that  might  be  just  the  trouble,"  I  an- 
swered. 

One  thing  is  certain.  Rowley,  that  morning,  should 
not  be  entrusted  with  a  razor  and  the  handling  of  my  chin. 
I  sent  him  back  to  his  bed,  with  orders  not  to  rise  from  it 
without  permission  ;  and  went  about  my  toilette  deliber- 
ately. In  spite  of  the  lad,  I  did  not  enjoy  the  prospect  of 
Mrs.  McRankine. 

I  enjoyed  it  so  little,  indeed,  that  I  fell  to  poking  the 
sitting-room  fire  when  she  entered  with  the  Mercury ; 
and  read  the  Mercury  assiduously  while  she  brought  in 
breakfast.  She  set  down  the  tray  with  a  slam  and  stood 
beside  it,  her  hands  on  her  hips,  her  whole  attitude  breath- 
ing challenge. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  McRankine  ?"  I  began,  upturning  a  hypo- 
critical eye  from  the  newspaper. 
"  '  Well,' is  it  ?    Nhm!" 

I  lifted  the  breakfast  cover,  and  saw  before  me  a  dam- 
natory red  herring. 

"  Rowley  was  very  foolish  last  night,"  I  remarked,  with 
a  discriminating  stress  on  the  name. 

"'The  ass  knoweth  his  master's  crib.'"     She  pointed 


EVENTS    OF   THURSDAY  839 

to  the  herring.  "  It's  all  ye'll  get  ^^rr.— Dncie,  if  tluit's 
your  name/^ 

"  Madam  "—I  held  out  the  fish  at  the  end  of  my  fork— 
''you  drag  it  across  the  track  of  an  apology."  I  set  it 
back  on  the  dish  and  replaced  the  cover.  ''  It  is  clear  that 
you  wish  us  gone.  Well  and  good  :  grant  Rowley  a  day 
for  recovery,  and  to-morrow  you  shall  be  quit  of  us."  I 
reached  for  my  hat. 

''  Whaur  are  ye  gaun  ?" 

''To  seek  other  lodgings." 

"  I'll  no  say Man,  man  !  have  a  care  !     And  me 

but  to  close  an  eye  the  nicht  !  "  She  dropped  into  a  chair. 
"Nay,  Mr.  Ducie,  ye  daurna !  Think  o'  that  innocent 
lamb  ! " 

"  That  little  pig." 

"  He's  ower  young  to  die,"  sobbed  my  landlady. 

"  In  the  abstract  I  agree  with  you  :  but  I  am  not  aware 
that  Rowley's  death  is  required.  Say  rather  tliat  he  is 
ower  young  to  turn  King's  evidence."  I  stepped  back 
from  the  door.  "  Mrs.  McRankine,"  I  said,  "  I  believe 
you  to  be  soft-hearted.  I  know  you  to  be  curious.  Vou 
will  be  pleased  to  sit  perfectly  still  and  listen  to  me." 

And,  resuming  my  seat,  I  leaned  across  the  corner  of 
the  table  and  put  my  case  before  her  without  suppression 
or  extenuation.  Iler  breathing  tightened  over  my  sketch 
of  the  duel  with  Goguelat ;  and  again  more  sharply  as  T 
told  of  my  descent  of  the  rock.  Of  Alain  she  said,  *'  I 
ken  his  sort,"  and  of  Flora  twice,  "  I'm  wonderin'  will  I 
have  seen  her  ?"  For  the  rest,  she  heard  me  out  in  silence, 
and  rose  and  walked  to  the  door  without  a  word.  There 
she  turned.  "It's  a  verra  queer  tale.  If  McRankine  had 
told  me  the  like,  I'd  have  gien  him  the  lie  to  his  face." 

Two  minutes  later  I  heard  the  vials  of  her  speech  un- 
sealed above  stairs,  with  detonations  that  shook  the  house. 


340  ST.    IVES 

I  hud  touclied  off  my  rocket,  and  the  stick  descended — on 
tlie  prostrate  Rowle}'. 

And  now  I  must  face  the  inert  hours.  I  sat  down,  and 
read  my  way  through  the  Mercury.  ^'  The  escaped  French 
soldier,  Champdivers,  who  is  wanted  in  connection  with 
the  recent  horrid  murder  at  the  Castle,  remains  at  large 

"  the  rest  but  repeated  the  advertisement  of  Tuesday. 

^"^  At  large  !"  I  set  down  tlie  paper,  and  turned  to  my 
landlady's  library.  It  consisted  of  Durham^s  Physico-  and 
Adro-Tlieoloyy,  The  Scrij)ture  Doctrine  of  Original  Sin, 
by  one  Taylor,  D.D.,  The  Ready  Reckoner  or  Tradesman's 
Sure  Guide,  and  The  Path  to  the  Pit  delineated,  with 
Twelve  Engravings  on  Coi^per -plate.  For  distraction  I  fell 
to  pacing  the  room,  and  rehearsing  those  remembered 
tags  of  Latin  verse  concerning  which  M.  de  Culemberg  had 
long  ago  assured  me,  "  My  son,  we  know  not  when,  but 
some  day  they  will  come  back  to  you  with  solace  if  not 
with  charm."  Good  man  !  My  feet  trod  the  carpet  to 
Horace's  Alcaics.  Virtus  recludens  immeritis  mori  Coelum 
— h'm.  h'm — raro — 

raro  aniecedentem  scetestum, 
deseruit  pede  Pana  claudo. 

I  paused  by  the  window.  In  this  there  was  no  indiscretion  ; 
for  a  cold  drizzle  washed  the  panes,  and  the  warmth  of  the 
apartment  dimmed  their  inner  surface. 

"Pede  Pcena  claudo,"  my  finger  traced  the  words  on 
the  damp  glass. 

A  sudden  clamour  of  the  street-doorbell  sent  me  skip- 
ping back  to  the  fireplace  with  my  heart  in  my  mouth. 
Interminable  minutes  followed,  and  at  length  Mrs.  Mc- 
Rankine  entered  with  my  ball  suit  from  the  tailor's.  I 
carried  it  into  the  next  room,  and  disposed  it  on  the  bed 
— olive-green  coat  witli  gilt  buttons  and  facings  of  watered 


EVENTS    OF    THURSDAY  341 

silk,  olive-green  pautaloons^  white  waistcoat  sprigged  with 
blue  and  green  forget-me-nots.  The  survey  carried  nie  on 
to  midday  and  the  midday  meal. 

The  ministry  of  meal-time  is  twice  blest  :  for  prisoners 
and  men  without  appetite  it  punctuates  and  makes  time 
of  eternity.  I  dawdled  over  my  chop  and  pint  of  brown 
stout  until  Mrs.  McRankine^  after  twice  entering  to  clear 
away,  with  the  face  of  a  Cum^ean  sibyl,  so  far  relaxed  the 
tension  of  unnatural  calm  as  to  inquire  if  I  meant  to  be 
all  night  about  it. 

The  afternoon  wore  into  dusk  ;  and  with  dusk  she  reap- 
peared with  a  tea-tray.     At  six  I  retired  to  dress. 

Behold  me  now  issuing  from  my  chamber,  conscious  of 
a  well-fitting  coat  and  a  shapely  pair  of  legs  ;  the  dignified 
simplicity  of  my  tournure  (simplicity  so  proper  to  the  scion 
of  an  exiled  house)  relieved  by  a  dandiacal  hint  of  shirt- 
frill,  and  corrected  into  tenderness  by  the  virgin  waistcoat 
sprigged  with  forget-me-nots  (for  constancy),  and  buttoned 
with  pink  coral  (for  hope).  Satisfied  of  the  effect,  I 
sought  the  apartment  of  Mr.  Rowley  of  the  Rueful 
Countenance,  and  found  him  less  yellow,  but  still  contrite, 
and  listening  to  Mrs.  McRankine,  who  sat  with  open  book 
by  his  bedside,  and  plied  him  with  pertinent  dehortatious 
from  the  Book  of  Proverbs. 

He  brightened. 

"  My  heye,  Mr.  Hann,  if  that  ain't  up  to  the  knocker  ! " 

Mrs.  McRankine  closed  the  book,  and  conned  me  with 
austerer  approval. 

''  Ye  carry  it  well,  I  will  say." 

^at  fits,  I  think." 

I  turned  myself  complacently  about. 

''The  drink,  I'm  meaning.     I  kenned  McRankine." 

"  Shall  we  talk  of  business,  madam  ?  In  the  first  place, 
the  quittance  for  our  board  and  lodging," 


342  ST.    IVES 

'*  I  mak'  it  out  on  Saturdays.''' 

*'  Do  so;  and  deduct  it  out  of  tliis/'^  I  handed  twenty- 
five  of  ray  guineas  into  her  keeping :  this  left  me  with  five 
and  a  crown  piece  in  my  2)ocket.  "  The  balance,  while  it 
lasts,  will  serve  for  Kowley's  keep  and  current  expenses. 
Before  long  I  hope  he  may  lift  the  money  which  lies  in 
the  bank  at  his  service,  as  he  knows. ''^ 

^'  But  you'll  come  back,  Mr.  Anne  V  cried  the  lad. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  a  toss-up,  my  boy.  Discipline,  remem- 
ber !  " — for  he  Avas  prej)aring  to  leap  out  of  bed  there  and 
then — "  You  can  serve  me  better  in  Edinburgh.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  wait  for  a  clear  coast,  and  seek  and  pre- 
sent yourself  in  private  before  Mr.  T.  Robbie  of  Castle 
Street,  or  Miss  Flora  Gilchrist  of  Swanston  Cottage. 
From  either  or  both  of  these  you  will  take  your  instruc- 
tions.    Here  are  the  addresses." 

''If  that's  a'  you  need  for  the  lad,"  said  Mrs.  Mc- 
Rankine,  "  he'll  be  eating  his  head  off  :  no  to  say  drink- 
ing."    Rowley  winced.     ^'I'll  tak' him  on  mysel'." 

''  My  dear  w^oman " 

"  He'll  be  a  brand  frae  the  burnin'  :  and  he'll  do  to 
clean  the  knives." 

She  would  hear  no  denial.  I  committed  the  lad  to  her 
in  this  double  capacity  ;  and  equipped  w^ith  a  pair  of  go- 
loshes from  the  wardrobe  of  the  late  McRankine,  sallied 
forth  upon  the  rain-swept  street. 

The  card  of  admission  directed  me  to  Buccleuch  Place,  a 
little  off  George  Square ;  and  here  I  found  a  wet  rag  of  a 
crowd  gathered  about  a  couple  of  lanterns  and  a  striped 
awning.  Beneath  the  awning  a  panel  of  light  fell  on  the 
plashy  pavement.  Already  the  guests  were  arriving.  I 
whipped  in  briskly,  presented  my  card,  and  passed  up  a 
staircase  decorated  with  flags,  evergreens,  and  national  em- 
blems.    A  venerable  flunkey  waited  for  me  at  the  summit. 


EVENTS   OF  THURSDAY  343 

'^  Cloak  lobby  to  the  left,  sir."  I  obeyed,  and  exchanged 
my  overcoat  and  goloshes  for  a  circular  metal  ticket. 
''  What  name,  sir  ? ''  he  purred  over  my  card,  as  I  lingered 
in  the  vestibule  for  a  moment  to  scan  the  ball-room  and 
my  field  of  action  :  then,  having  cleared  his  throat,  bawled 
suddenly,  "  Mr.  Ducie  ! '' 

It  might  have  been  a  stage  direction.  '  A  tucket  soimih. 
Enter  the  Vicomte,  disguised,'  To  tell  the  truth,  this 
entry  was  a  daunting  business.  A  dance  had  just  come  to 
an  end  ;  and  the  musicians  in  the  gallery  had  fallen  to 
tuning  their  violins.  The  chairs  arrayed  along  the  walls 
were  thinly  occupied,  and  as  yet  the  social  temperature 
scarce  rose  to  thawing-point.  In  fact,  the  second-rate 
people  had  arrived,  and  from  the  far  end  of  the  room  were 
nervously  watching  tlie  door  for  notables.  Consequently 
my  entrance  drew  a  disquieting  fire  of  observation.  The 
mirrors,  reflectors,  and  girandoles  had  eyes  for  me  ;  and  as 
I  advanced  up  the  perspective  of  waxed  floor,  the  very 
boards  w^inked  detection.  A  little  Master  of  Ceremonies, 
as  round  as  the  rosette  on  his  lapel,  detaclied  himself  from 
the  nearest  group,  and  approached  witli  something  of  a 
skater's  motion  and  an  insinuating  smile. 

"  Mr. — a — Ducie,  if  I  heard  aright  ?  A  stranger,  I  be- 
lieve, to  our  northern  capital,  and  I  hope  a  dancer  ?  "  I 
bowed.  "  Grant  me  the  pleasure,  Mr.  Ducie,  of  finding 
you  a  partner.'' 

^^If,"  said  I,  ^^you  would  present  me  to  the  young  lady 
yonder,  beneath  the  musician's  gallery "  For  I  recog- 
nised Master  Eonald's  flame,  the  girl  in  pink  of  Mr.  Itob- 
bie's  party,  to-night  gowned  in  apple-green. 

'^Miss  McBean — Miss  Camilla  McBean  ?  With  pleas- 
ure. Great  discrimination  you  show,  sir.  Be  so  good  as 
to  follow  me." 

I  was  led  forward  and   presented.      Miss  McBean  re- 


344  ST.    IVES 

sponded  to  my  bow  with  great  play  of  shoulders  ;  and  in 
turn  presented  me  to  her  mother,  a  moustachioed  lady  in 
stiff  black  silk,  surmounted  with  a  black  cap  and  coqueli- 
cot  trimmings. 

"Any  friend  of  Mr.  Robbie's,  I'm  sure/'  murmured 
Mrs.  McBean,  affably  inclining.  "  Look,  Camilla  dear — 
Sir  William  and  Lady  Frazer — in  laylock  sarsnet — how 
well  that  diamond  bandeau  becomes  her  !  They  are  early 
to-night.     As  I  was  saying,  Mr. " 

*^Ducie." 

"  To  be  sure.  As  I  was  saying,  any  friend  of  Mr.  Rob- 
])ie — one  of  my  oldest  acquaintance.  If  you  can  manage 
now  to  break  him  of  his  bachelor  habits  !  You  are  making 
a  long  stay  in  Edinburgh  ?" 

''I  fear,  madam,  that  I  must  leave  it  to-morrow." 

"  You  have  seen  all  our  lions,  I  suppose  ?  The  Castle, 
now  ?  Ah,  the  attractions  of  London  I — now  don't  shake 
your  head,  Mr.  Ducie.  I  hope  I  know  a  Londoner  when  I 
see  one.  And  yet  'twould  surprise  you  how  fast  we  are 
advancing  in  Edinburgh.  Camilla  dear,  that  Miss  Scrym- 
geour  has  edged  her  China  crape  with  the  very  ribbon 
trimmings — black  satin  with  pearl  edge — we  saw  in  that 
new  shop  in  Princes  Street  yesterday  :  sixpenny  width  at 
tlie  bottom,  and  three-tliree-farthings  round  the  bodice. 
Perhaps  you  can  tell  me,  Mr.  Ducie,  if  it's  really  true  that 
ribbon  trimmings  are  tlie  lieiylit  in  London  and  Bath  this 
year?" 

But  the  band  struck  up,  and  I  swept  the  unresisting 
Camilla  towards  the  set.  After  the  dance,  the  ladies  (who 
were  kind  enough  to  compliment  me  on  my  performance) 
suffered  themselves  to  be  led  to  the  tea-room.  By  this 
time  the  arrivals  were  following  each  other  thick  and  fast ; 
and,  standing  by  the  tea-table,  I  heard  name  after  name 
vociferated  at  the  ball-room  door,  but  never  the  name  my 


EVENTS    OP   THURSDAY  345 

nerves  were  on  the  strain  to  echo.  Surely  Flora  would 
come  :  surely  none  of  her  guardians,  natural  or  officious, 
would  expect  to  find  me  at  the  ball.  But  the  minutes 
passed,  and  I  must  convey  Mrs.  and  Miss  McBean  back  to 
their  seats  beneath  the  gallery. 

^^Mrs.  Gilchrist— Miss  Gilchrist  — Mr.  Ronald  Gil- 
christ !     Mr.  Robbie  !     Major  Arthur  Chevenix  ! '' 

The  first  name  plumped  like  a  shot  across  my  bows,  and 
brought  me  up  standing — for  a  second  only.  Before  the 
catalogue  was  out,  I  had  dropped  the  McBeans  at  their 
moorings  and  was  heading  down  on  my  enemies^  line  of 
battle.  Their  faces  were  a  picture.  Flora's  cheek  flushed, 
and  her  lips  parted  in  the  prettiest  cry  of  wonder.  Mr. 
Robbie  took  snuff.  Ronald  went  red  in  the  face,  and  Ma- 
jor Chevenix  white.  The  intrepid  Mrs.  Gilchrist  turned 
not  a  hair. 

'^  AVhat  will  be  the  meaning  of  this  ? ''  she  demanded, 
drawing  to  a  stand,  and  surveying  me  through  her  gold- 
rimmed  eyeglass. 

'^  Madam,"  said  I,  with  a  glance  at  Chevenix,  *^you  may 
call  it  a  cutting-out  expedition." 

*^  Mrs.  Gilchrist,"  he  began,  ^^you  will  surely  not " 

But  I  was  too  quick  for  him. 

^'  Madam,  since  when  has  the  gallant  Major  superseded 
Mr.  Robbie  as  your  family  adviser  ?  " 

-'  H'mph  I "  said  Mrs.  Gilchrist  ;  which  in  itself  Avas  not 
reassuring.     But  she  turned  to  the  lawyer. 

^'  My  dear  lady,"  he  answered  her  look,  ''this  very  im- 
prudent young  man  seems  to  have  burnt  his  boats,  and  no 
doubt  recks  very  little  if,  in  that  heroical  conflagration,  he 
burns  our  fingers.  Speaking,  however,  as  your  family  ad- 
viser " — and  he  laid  enough  stress  on  it  to  convince  me  that 
there  was  no  love  lost  between  him  and  the  interloping 
Chevenix — "  I  suggest  that  we  gain  nothing  by  protracting 


346  ST.  ivp:s 

this  scene  in  the  face  of  a  crowded  assembly.  Are  yon  for 
the  card-room,  Madam  ?" 

She  took  his  proffered  arm,  and  they  swept  from  us, 
leaving  Master  Ronald  red  and  glum,  and  the  Major  pale 
but  nonplussed. 

''  Four  from  six  leaves  two,'^  said  I ;  and  promptly  en- 
gaged Florals  arm  and  towed  her  away  from  the  silenced 
batteries. 

*^And  now,  my  dear,^'  I  added,  as  w^e  found  two  isolated 
chairs,  ^^you  will  kindly  demean  yourself  as  if  we  were  met 
for  the  first  or  second  time  in  our  lives.  Open  your  fan — 
so.  Now  listen  :  my  cousin,  Alain,  is  in  Edinburgh,  at 
Dumbreck's  Hotel.     No,  don't  lower  it.'' 

She  held  up  the  fan,  though  her  small  wrist  trembled. 

^^  There  is  worse  to  come.  He  has  brought  Bow  Street 
with  him,  and  likely  enough  at  this  moment  the  runners 
are  ransacking  the  city  hot-foot  for  my  lodgings.'* 

"And  you  linger  and  show  yourself  here  ! — here  of  all 
places !  0,  it  is  mad  !  Anne,  why  will  you  be  so 
rash?" 

"  For  the  simple  reason  that  I  have  been  a  fool,  my  dear. 
I  banked  the  balance  of  my  money  in  George  Street,  and 
the  bank  is  watched.  I  must  have  money  to  win  my  way 
south.  Therefore  I  must  find  you  and  reclaim  the  notes 
you  were  kind  enough  to  keep  for  me.  I  go  to  Swanston 
and  find  you  under  surveillance  of  Chevenix,  su]->ported  by 
an  animal  called  Towzer.  I  may  have  killed  Towzei*,  by 
the  way.  If  so,  transported  to  an  equal  sky,  he  may 
shortly  have  the  faithful  Chevenix  to  bear  him  company. 
I  grow  tired  of  Chevenix." 

But  the  fan  dropped  :  her  arms  lay  limp  in  her  lap  ;  and 
she  was  staring  up  at  me  piteously,  with  a  world  of  self- 
reproacli  in  her  beautiful  eyes. 

"And  I  locked  up  the  notes  at  home  to-night — wlion  I 


EVENTS    OF   THURSDAY  347 

dressed  for  the  ball — tlie  first  time  they  have  left  my 
heart !     0,  false  ! — false  of  trust  that  I  am  ! " 

'^Why,  dearest,  that  is  not  fatal,  I  hope.  You  reach 
home  to-night — you  slip  them  into  some  hiding — say  in 
the  corner  of  the  wall  below  the  garden " 

^'  Stoj"*  :  let  me  think."  She  picked  up  her  fan  again, 
and  behind  it  her  eyes  darkened  while  I  watched  and  she 
considered.  "  You  know  the  hill  we  i^ass  before  we  reach 
Swanston?  it  has  a  clumii  of  firs  above  it,  like  a  fin.  There 
is  a  quarry  on  the  east  slope.  If  you  will  be  there  at  eight 
— I  can  manage  it,  I  think,  and  bring  the  money. '^ 

^'  But  why  should  you  run  the  risk  ?" 

''  Please,  Anne — 0,  please  let  me  do  something  I  If 
you  knew  what  it  is  to  sit  at  home  while  your — your 
dearest " 

"The  Viscount  of  Saint- Yves  !" 

The  name,  shouted  from  the  doorway,  rang  down  her 
faltering  sentence  as  with  the  clash  of  an  alarm  bell.  I 
saw  Eonald — in  talk  with  Miss  McBean  but  a  few  yards 
away — spin  round  on  his  heel  and  turn  slowly  back  on  me 
with  a  face  of  sheer  bewilderment.  There  was  no  time  to 
conceal  myself.  To  reach  either  the  tea-room  or  the  card- 
room,  I  must  traverse  twelve  feet  of  open  floor.  We  sat  in 
clear  view  of  the  main  entrance  ;  and  there  already,  with 
eyeglass  lifted,  raffish,  flamboyant,  exuding  pomades  and 
bad  style,  stood  my  detestable  cousin.  He  saw  us  at  once  ; 
wheeled  right-about-face,  and  spoke  to  some  one  in  the 
vestibule  ;  wheeled  round  again,  and  bore  straight  down,  a 
full  swagger  Tarnishing  his  malign  triumph.  Flora  caught 
her  breath  as  I  stood  up  to  accost  him. 

"  Good  evening,  my  cousin  !  The  newspaper  told  me 
you  were  favouring  this  city  with  a  stay." 

''At  Dumbreck's  Hotel:  where,  my  dear  Anne,  you 
have  not  yet  done  me  the  pleasure  to  seek  me  out." 


:S48  ST.   IVES 

*'  I  gathered/'  said  I,  ''  that  you  were  forestalling  the 
I'omiiliment.     Our  meeting,  then,  is  unexpected  ?" 

"  Why,  no  ;  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  the  secretary  of  the 
Ball  Committee,  this  afternoon,  allowed  me  a  glance  over 
liis  list  of  invites.  I  am  apt  to  be  nice  about  my  com- 
pany, cousin." 

Ass  that  I  was  !  I  had  never  given  this  obvious  danger 
so  much  as  a  thought. 

"  I  fancy  I  have  seen  one  of  your  latest  intimates  about 
the  street." 

He  eyed  me,  and  answered,  with  a  bluff  laugh.  *^  Ah  ! 
You  gave  us  the  very  devil  of  a  chase.  You  appear,  my 
dear  Anne,  to  have  a  hare's  propensity  for  running  in  your 
tracks.  And  begad,  I  don't  wonder  at  it  ! "  he  wound  up, 
ogling  Flora  with  an  insolent  stare. 

Him  one  might  have  hunted  by  scent  alone.  He  reeked 
of  essences. 

"  Present  me,  mon  hrave." 

'^'11  be  shot  if  I  do." 

'^  I  believe  they  reserve  that  privilege  for  soldiers,"  he 
mused. 

*^  At  any  rate  they  don't  extend  it  to "     I  pulled  up 

on  the  word.  He  had  the  upper  hand,  but  I  could  at  least 
play  the  game  out  with  decency.  ^^  Come,"  said  I,  ^'  a 
contre-clanse  will  begin  presently.  Find  yourself  a  partner, 
and  I  promise  you  shall  be  our  vis-a-vis." 

''  You  have  blood  in  you,  my  cousin." 

He  bowed,  and  went  in  search  of  the  Master  of  Ceremo- 
nies. I  gave  an  arm  to  Flora.  "  Well,  and  how  does 
Alain  strike  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

''  He  is  a  handsome  man,"  she  allowed.  '^  If  your  uncle 
had  treated  him  differently,  I  believe " 

"  And  I  believe  that  no  woman  alive  can  distinguish 
between  a  gentleman  and  a  dancing-master  !     A  posture 


EVENTS    OF  THURSDAY  349 

or  two,  and  you  interpret  worth.  My  dear  girl — that  fel- 
low!" 

She  was  silent.  1  have  since  learned  why.  It  seems,  if 
yon  please,  that  the  very  same  remark  had  been  made  to 
her  by  that  idiot  Chevenix,  upon  me  ! 

We  were  close  to  the  door  :  we  passed  it,  and  I  flung  a 
glance  into  the  vestibule.  There,  sure  enough,  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  was  posted  my  friend  of  the  moleskin 
waistcoat,  in  talk  with  a  confederate  by  some  shades 
uglier  than  himself — a  red-headed,  loose-legged  scoundrel 
in  cinder-grey. 

I  was  fairly  in  the  trap.  I  turned,  and  between  the 
moving  crowd  caught  Alain's  eye  and  his  evil  smile.  lie 
had  found  a  partner :  no  less  a  personage  than  Lady  Fra- 
zer  of  the  lilac  sarsnet  and  diamond  bandeau. 

For  some  unaccountable  reason,  in  this  infernal  impasse 
my  spirits  began  to  rise,  to  soar.  I  declare  it :  I  led  Flora 
forward  to  the  set  with  a  gaiety  which  may  have  been  un- 
natural, but  was  certainly  not  factitious.  A  Scotsman 
would  have  called  me  fey.  As  the  song  goes — and  it 
matters  not  if  I  had  it  then,  or  read  it  later  in  my  wife's 
library — 

"  Sae  rantingly,  sae  wantonly 
Sae  dauntingly  gaed  he ; 
He  played  a  spring  and  danced  it  round 
Beneath " 

never  mind  what.  The  band  played  the  spring  and  I 
danced  it  round,  while  my  cousin  eyed  me  with  extorted 
approval.  The  quadrille  includes  an  absurd  figure— called, 
I  think.  La  PastoureUe.  You  take  a  lady  with  either  hand 
and  jig  them  to  and  fro,  for  all  the  world  like  an  English- 
man of  legend  parading  a  couple  of  wives  for  sale  at  Smith- 
field  ;  while  the  other  male,  like  a  timid  purchaser,  backs 
and  advances  with  his  arms  dangling. 


350  ST.   IVES 

"  I've  lived  a  life  of  sturt  and  strife, 
I  die  by  treacherie — " 

I  challenged  Alain  with  an  open  smile  as  he  backed  before 
us;  and  no  sooner  was  the  dance  over,  than  I  saw  him 
desert  Lady  Frazer  on  a  hurried  excuse,  and  seek  the  door 
to  satisfy  himself  that  his  men  were  on  guard. 

I  dropped  laughing  into  a  chair  beside  Flora.  ''  Anne/' 
slie  whispered,  "  who  is  on  the  stairs  ?  " 

"  Two  Bow  Street  runners. ''' 

If  you  have  seen  a  dove — a  dove  caught  in  a  gin  !  ^^  The 
back  stairs  !  "  she  urged. 

"  Tiiey  will  be  watched  too.  But  let  us  make  sure/'  I 
crossed  to  the  tea-room,  and,  encountering  a  waiter,  drew 
him  aside.  Was  there  a  man  watching  the  back  entrance  ? 
lie  could  not  tell  me.  For  a  guinea  would  he  find  out  ? 
lie  went  and,  returned  in  less  than  a  minute.  Yes,  there 
was  a  constable  below.  "  It's  just  a  young  gentleman  to 
be  put  to  the  haw  for  debt,"  I  explained,  recalling  the  bar- 
barous and,  to  me,  still  unmeaning  phrase.  "  I'm  no 
speiring,"  replied  the  waiter. 

I  made  niy  way  back,  and  Avas  not  a  little  disgusted  to 
find  my  chair  occupied  by  the  unconscionable  Chevenix. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Flora,  you  are  unwell  I "  Indeed,  she 
was  pale  enough,  poor  child,  and  trembling.  "  Major,  she 
will  be  swooning  in  another  minute.  Get  her  to  the  tea- 
room, quick  !  while  I  fetch  Mrs.  Gilchrist.  She  must  be 
taken  home." 

''It  is  nothing,"  she  faltered  :  "it  will  pass.     Pray  do 

not "     As  she  glanced  up,   she  caught  my  meaning. 

"  Yes,  yes  :  I  will  go  home." 

She  took  the  Major's  arm,  while  I  hurried  to  the  card- 
room.  As  luck  would  have  it,  the  old  lady  was  in  the  act 
of  rising  from  the  green  table,  having  just  cut  out  from  a 
rubber.     Mr.    Uobbie   was  her  partner  ;    and   I  saw    (and 


EVENTS    OF    THURSDAY  351 

blessed  my  star  for  the  first  time  that  night)  the  little  heap 
of  silver  which  told  that  she  had  been  wiiiiiiiifr. 

''  Mrs.  Gilchrist,"  I  whispered,  "  Miss  Flora  is  faint :  the 
heat  of  the  room '' 

"I've  not  observed  it.  The  ventilation  is  considered 
pairf  ect. " 

"  She  wishes  to  be  taken  home." 

AVith  fine  composure  she  counted  back  her  money,  piece 
by  piece,  into  a  velvet  reticule. 

''Twelve  and  sixpence,''  she  proclaimed.  "Ye  held 
good  cards,  Mr.  Robbie.  Well,  Mosha  the  Viscount,  we'll 
go  and  see  about  it." 

I  led  her  to  the  tea-room  :  Mr.  Tiobbie  followed.  Flora 
rested  on  a  sofa  in  a  truly  dismal  state  of  collapse,  while 
the  Major  fussed  about  her  with  a  cup  of  tea.  ''I  have 
sent  Ronald  for  the  carriage,"  he  announced. 

"  H'm,"  said  Mrs.  Gilchrist,  eyeing  him  oddly,  "  well, 
it's  3"our  risk.  Ye'd  best  hand  me  the  teacup,  and  get  our 
shawls  from  the  lobby.  You  have  the  tickets.  Be  ready 
for  us  at  the  top  of  the  stairs." 

No  sooner  was  the  Major  gone  than,  keeping  an  eye  on 
her  niece,  this  imperturbable  lady  stirred  the  tea  and  drank 
it  down  herself.  As  she  drained  the  cup — her  back  for 
the  moment  being  turned  on  Mr.  Robbie — I  was  aware  of  a 
facial  contortion.  Was  the  tea  (as  children  say)  going  the 
wrong  way  ? 

No  :  I  believe — aid  me  Apollo  and  the  Nine  I  I  believe 
— though  I  have  never  dared,  and  shall  never  dare  to  ask 
— that  Mrs.  Gilchrist  was  doing  her  best  to  wink  ! 

On  the  instant  entered  Master  Ronnld  with  word  that 
the  carriage  was  ready.  I  slipj^ed  to  the  door  and  recon- 
noitred. The  crowd  was  thick  in  the  ball-room  ;  a  dance 
in  full  swing  ;  my  cousin  gambolling  vivaciously,  and,  for 
the  moment,  with   his  back  to  us.     Flora  leaned  on  Ron- 


352  f^T.  IVES 

aid,  aiul,  skirting  the  wall,  our  party  gained  the  great  door 
and  the  vestibule,  where  Chevenix  stood  with  an  armful  of 
cloaks. 

"  You  and  Ronald  can  return  and  enjoy  yourselves/' 
said  the  old  lady,  ''  as  soon  as  ye've  packed  us  off.  Ye'll 
find  a  hackney  coach,  no  doubt,  to  bring  ye  home."  Her 
eye  rested  on  the  two  runners,  who  were  putting  tlieir 
heads  together  behind  the  Major.  She  turned  on  me  with 
a  stiff  curtsey.  ''Good-night,  sir,  and  I  am  obliged  for 
your  services.  Or  stay — you  may  see  us  to  the  carriage,  if 
ye'll  be  so  kind.  Major,  hand  Mr.  AVhat-d'ye-call  some  of 
your  wraps." 

My  eyes  did  not  dare  to  bless  her.  We  moved  down  the 
stairs — Mrs.  Gilchrist  leading.  Flora  supported  by  her 
brother  and  Mr.  Robbie,  the  Major  and  I  behind.  As  I 
descended  the  first  step,  the  red-headed  runner  made  a 
move  forward.  Though  my  gaze  was  glued  upon  the  pat- 
tern of  Mrs.  Gilchrist's  Paisley  shawl,  I  saw  his  finger 
touch  my  arm.  Yes,  and  I  felt  it,  like  a  touch  of  hot  iron. 
The  other  man— Moleskin — plucked  him  by  the  arm  :  they 
whispered.  They  saw  me  bare-headed,  without  my  over- 
coat. They  argued,  no  doubt,  that  I  was  unaware  ;  was 
seeing  the  ladies  to  their  carriage  ;  would  of  course  return. 
They  let  me  pass. 

Once  in  the  boisterous  street,  I  darted  round  to  the  dark 
side  of  the  carriage.  Ronald  ran  forward  to  the  coachman 
(whom  I  recognised  for  the  gardener,  Robie).  "  Miss 
Flora  is  faint.  Home,  as  fast  as  you  can  !  "  He  skipped 
back  under  the  awning.  "  A  guinea  to  make  it  faster  !  " 
I  called  up  from  the  other  side  of  the  box-seat  ;  and  out  of 
the  darkness  and  rain  T  held  up  the  coin  and  pressed  it 

into  Robie's  damp  palm.     "  What  in  the  name !"    He 

peered  round,  but  I  was  back  and  close  against  the  step. 
The  door  was  slammed.     "  Right  away  !  " 


EVENTS   OF   THURSDAY  353 

It  may  have  been  fancy  :  but  with  the  shout  I  seemed 
to  hear  the  voice  of  Alain  lifted  in  imprecation  on  the 
Assembly  Room  stairs.  As  Robie  touched  up  the  grey,  I 
whipped  open  the  door  on  my  side  and  tumbled  in — upon 
Mrs.  Gilchrist's  lap. 

Flora  choked  down  a  cry.  I  recovered  myself,  dropped 
into  a  heap  of  rugs  on  the  seat  facing  the  ladies,  and  puUed- 
to  the  door  by  its  strap. 

Dead  silence  from  Mrs.  Gilchrist ! 

I  had  to  apologise,  of  course.  The  wheels  rumbled  and 
jolted  over  the  cobbles  of  Edinburgh  ;  the  windows  rat- 
tled and  shook  under  the  uncertain  gusts  of  the  city. 
When  we  passed  a  street  lamp  it  shed  no  light  into  the 
vehicle,  but  the  awful  profile  of  my  protectress  loomed  out 
for  a  second  against  the  yellow  haze  of  the  pane,  and  sank 
back  into  impenetrable  shade. 

'•'Madam,  some  explanation — enough  at  least  to  mitigate 

your  resentment — natural,  I  allow "     Jolt,  jolt  !    And 

still  a  mortuary  silence  within  the  coach  !  It  was  discon- 
certing. Robie  for  a  certainty  was  driving  his  best,  and 
already  we  were  beyond  the  last  rare  outposts  of  light  on 
the  Lothian  Road. 

''I  believe,  madam,  the  inside  of  five  minutes — if  you 
will  allow " 

I  stretched  out  a  protesting  hand.  In  the  darkness  it 
encountered  Flora's.  Our  fingers  closed  upon  the  thrill- 
For  five,  ten  beatific  seconds  our  pulses  sang  together,  ^'  I 
love  you  !  I  love  you  !  "  in  the  stuffy  silence. 

"  Mosha  Saint  Yvey  ! "  spoke  up  a  deliberate  voice 
(Flora  caught  her  hand  away),  "  as  far  as  I  can  make  head 
and  tail  of  your  business — supposing  it  to  have  a  modicum 
of  head,  which  I  doubt — it  appears  to  me  that  I  have  just 
done  you  a  service  ;  and  that  makes  twice." 

'' A  service,  madam,  I  shall  ever  remember," 
23 


354  ST.  IV  Ks 

*'  I'll  cliunce  that,  sir;  if  yell  kindly  not  forget  your- 

In  resumed  silence  we  must  have  travelled  a  mile  and  a 
half,  or  two  miles,  when  Mrs.  Gilchrist  let  down  the  sash 
with  a  clatter,  and  thrust  her  head  and  mamelone  cap 
for  til  into  the  night. 

"Kobie!" 

Robie  pulled  up. 

*'  The  gentleman  will  alight." 

It  was  only  wisdom,  for  we  were  nearing  Swanston.  I 
rose.  ''Mrs.  Gilchrist,  you  are  a  good  woman;  and  I 
think  the  cleverest  I  have  met."  ''Umph,''  replied  she. 
In  the  act  of  stepping  forth  I  turned  for  a  final  handsluike 
with  Flora,  and  my  foot  caught  in  something  and  dragged 
it  out  upon  the  road.  I  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  and  heard 
the  door  bang  by  my  ear. 

''  Madam — your  shawl  I  " 

But  the  coach  lurched  forward  ;  the  wheels  splashed 
me  ;  and  I  was  left  standing,  alone  on  the  inclement  high- 
way. 

While  yet  I  watched  the  little  red  eyes  of  the  vehicle, 
and  almost  as  they  vanished,  I 'heard  more  rumbling  of 
wheels,  and  descried  two  pairs  of  yellow  eyes  upon  tl 
road,  towards  Edinburgh.  There  was  just  time  enou 
to  plunge  aside,  to  leap  a  fence  into  Ji  rain-soaked  pasture  ; 
and  there  I  crouched,  the  water  squishing  over  my  danc- 
ing-shoes, while  with  a  flare,  a  slant  of  rain,  and  a  glimpse 
of  flogging  drivers,  two  hackney  carriages  pelted  by  at  a 
gallop. 


L^h 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

EVENTS     OF    FRIDAY     MORNING  :    THE     CUTTING     OF    THE 
GORDIAN    KNOT 

I  PULLED  out  my  watch.  A  fickle  ray — the  merest 
filtration  of  moonlight — glimmered  on  the  dial.  Fourteen 
minutes  past  one  !  "  Past  yin  o'clock,  and  a  dark,  haary 
moarniii."  I  recalled  the  bull  voice  of  the  watchman  as 
he  had  called  it  on  the  night  of  our  escape  from  the  Cas- 
tle— its  very  tones  :  and  this  echo  of  memory  seemed  to 
strike  and  reverberate  the  hour  closing  a  long  day  of  fate. 
Truly  since  that  night  the  hands  had  run  full  circle,  and 
were  back  at  the  old  starting-point.  I  had  seen  dawn, 
day  :  I  had  basked  in  the  sunshine  of  men's  respect  ;  I 
was  back  in  the  Stygian  night — back  in  tlie  shadow  of  that 
infernal  Castle — still  hunted  by  the  law — with  possibly  a 
smaller  chance  than  ever  of  escape — the  cockshy  of  tlie 
elements— with  no  shelter  for  my  head  but  a  Paisley  shawl 
of  violent  pattern.  It  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  travelled 
much  in  the  interval,  and  run  many  risks,  to  exchange  a 
suit  of  mustard  yellow  for  a  Paisley  shawl  and  a  ball  dress 
that  matched  neitlier  it  nor  the  climate  of  the  Pentlands. 
The  exhilaration  of  the  ball,  the  fighting  spirit,  tlie  last 
communicated  thrill  of  Flora's  hand,  died  out  of  me.  In 
the  thickening  envelope  of  sea  fog  I  felt  like  a  scpiirrel  in 
a  rotatory  cage.     That  was  a  lugubrious  hour. 

To  speak  precisely,  those  were  seven  lugubrious  hours  ; 
since  Flora  would  not  be  due  before  eight  o'clock,  if,  in- 
deed, I  might  count  on  her  eluding  her  double  cordon  of 

355 


356  ST.  IVES 

spies.  The  question  was,  whither  to  tarn  in  the  mean- 
time ?  Certainly  not  back  to  the  town.  In  the  near 
neighbourhood  I  knew  of  no  roof  but  The  Hunters'  Tryst, 
by  Alexander  Hendry.  Suppose  that  I  found  it  (and  the 
chances  in  that  fog  were  perhaps  against  me),  would 
Alexander  Hendry,  aroused  from  his  bed,  be  likely  to  ex- 
tend his  hospitality  to  a  traveller  with  no  more  luggage 
than  a  Paisley  shawl  ''  He  might  think  I  had  stolen  it. 
I  had  borne  it  down  the  staircase  under  the  eyes  of  the 
runners,  and  the  pattern  was  bitten  upon  my  brain.  It 
was  doubtless  unique  in  the  district,  and  familiar  :  an  ori- 
flamme  of  battle  over  the  barter  of  dairy  produce  and  malt 
liquors.  Alexander  Hendry  must  recognise  it,  and  with 
an  instinct  of  antagonism.  Patently  it  formed  no  part  of 
my  proper  wardrobe  :  hardly  could  it  be  explained  as  a 
gage  tV amour.  Eccentric  hunters  trysted  under  Hendry's 
roof  :  the  Six- Foot  Club,  for  instance.  But  a  hunter  in 
a  frilled  shirt  and  w^aistcoat  sprigged  with  forget-me-nots  ! 
And  the  house  would  be  watched,  perhaps.  Every  house 
around  would  be  watched. 

The  end  was  that  I  wore  through  the  remaining  hours 
of  darkness  upon  the  sodden  hillside.  Superlative  Mrs. 
Gilchrist!  Folded  in  the  mantle  of  that  Spartan  dame; 
huddled  upon  a  boulder,  while  the  rain  descended  upon 
my  bare  head,  and  coursed  down  my  nose,  and  filled  my 
shoes,  and  insinuated  a  playful  trickle  down  the  ridge  of 
my  spine  ;  I  hugged  the  lacerating  fox  of  self-reproach, 
and  hugged  it  again,  and  set  my  teeth  as  it  bit  upon  my 
vitals.  Once,  indeed,  I  lifted  an  accusing  arm  to  heaven. 
It  was  as  if  I  had  pulled  the  string  of  a  douche-bath. 
Heaven  flooded  the  fool  with  gratuitous  tears  ;  and  the 
fool  sat  in  the  puddle  of  them  and  knew  his  folly.  But 
heaven  at  the  same  time  mercifully  veiled  that  figure  of 
abasement ;  and  I  will  lift  but  a  corner  of  the  sheet. 


15VENTS   OF   FRIDAY   MORNING  357 

Wind  in  hidden  gullies,  and  the  talk  of  lapsing  waters 
on  the  hillside,  filled  all  the  spaces  of  the  night.  The 
high  road  lay  at  my  feet,  fifty  yards  or  so  below  my  boul- 
der. Soon  after  two  o^clock  (as  I  made  it)  lamps  appeared 
in  the  direction  of  Swanston,  and  drew  nearer  ;  and  two 
hackney  coaches  passed  me  at  a  jog-trot,  towards  the  opa- 
line haze  into  which  the  fog  had  subdued  the  lights  of 
Edinburgh.  I  heard  one  of  the  drivers  curse  as  he  went 
by,  and  inferred  that  my  open-handed  cousin  had  shirked 
the  weather  and  gone  comfortably  from  the  Assembly 
llooms  to  Dumbreck's  Hotel  and  bed,  leaving  the  chase  to 
his  mercenaries. 

After  this  you  are  to  believe  that  I  dozed  and  woke  by 
snatches.  I  watched  the  moon  descending  in  her  foggy 
circle  ;  but  I  saw  also  the  mulberry  face  and  minatory 
forefinger  of  Mr.  Eomaine,  and  caught  myself  explaining 
to  him  and  Mr.  Robbie  that  their  joint  proposal  to  mort- 
gage my  inheritance  for  a  flying  broomstick  took  no  ac- 
count of  the  working  model  of  the  whole  Kock  and  Castle 
of  Edinburgh,  which  I  dragged  about  by  an  ankle-chain. 
Anon  I  was  pelting  with  Rowley  in  a  claret-coloured  chaise 
through  a  cloud  of  robin-redbreasts  ;  and  with  that  I 
awoke  to  the  veritable  chatter  of  birds  and  the  white  light 
of  dawn  upon  the  hills. 

The  truth  is,  I  had  come  very  near  to  the  end  of  my  en- 
durance. Cold  and  rain  together,  supervening  in  that 
hour  of  the  spirit's  default,  may  well  have  made  me  light- 
headed ;  nor  was  it  easy  to  distinguish  the  tooth  of  self- 
reproach  from  that  of  genuine  hunger.  Stiff,  qualmish, 
vacant  of  body,  heart  and  brain,  I  left  my  penitential 
boulder  and  crawled  down  to  the  road.  Glancing  along  it 
for  sight  or  warning  of  the  runners,  I  spied,  at  two  gun- 
shots' distance  or  less,  a  milestone  with  a  splash  of  white 
upon  it — a  draggled  placard.     Abhorrent  thought  !     Did 


358  ST.   IVES 

it  announce  the  price  upon  the  head  of  Champdivers  ? 
^^  At  least  I  will  see  how  they  describe  him"— this  I  told 
myself  ;  but  that  which  tugged  at  my  feet  was  the  baser 
fascination  of  fright.  I  had  thought  my  spine  inured  by 
the  night's  experiences  to  anything  in  the  way  of  cold 
shivers.  I  discovered  my  mistake  while  approaching  that 
scrap  of  paper. 

'^AERIAL  ASCENSION  EXTRAORDINARY  !  !  ! 

IN 
THIi    MONSTER    BALLOON, 

'  LUNARDI ' 

Professor  Byfikld  (by  diploma),  the  world-renowned 

Exponent  of  Aerostatics  and  Aeronautics, 

Has  the  honour  to  inform  the  nobility  and   gentry  of  Edinburgh  and 

the  neighbourhood -" 

The  shock  of  it — the  sudden  descent  upon  sublimity  ac- 
cording to  Byfield — took  me  in  the  face.  I  put  up  my  hands. 
I  broke  into  elfish  laughter^  and  ended  with  a  sob.  Sobs 
and  laughter  together  shook  my  fasting  body  like  a  leaf  ; 
and  I  zigzagged  across  the  fields,  buffeted  this  side  and 
that  by  a  mirth  as  uncontrollable  as  it  was  idiotic.  Once 
I  pulled  up  in  the  middle  of  a  spasm  to  marvel  irrespon- 
sibly at  the  sound  of  my  own  voice.  You  may  w^onder 
that  I  had  Avill  and  wit  to  be  drifted  towards  Flora's  tryst- 
ing-place.  But  in  truth  there  was  no  missing  it — the  low 
chine  looming  through  the  weather,  the  line  of  firs  top- 
ping it,  and,  towards  the  west,  diminishing  like  a  fish's 
dorsal  fin.  I  had  conned  it  often  enough  from  the  other  • 
side  ;  had  looked  right  across  it  on  the  day  when  she  stood 
beside  me  on  the  bastion  and  pointed  out  the  smoke  of 
Swanston  Cottage.  Only  on  this  side  the  fish-tail  (so  to 
speak)  had  a  nick  in  it ;  and  through  that  nick  ran  the 
path  to  the  old  quarry. 

I  reached  it  a  little  before  eight.     The  quarry  lay  to  the 


EVENTS   OF   FRIDAY   MORNING  359 

left  of  the  path,  which  passed  on  and  out  upon  tlie  hill's 
northern  slope.  Upon  that  slope  there  was  no  need  to 
show  myself.  I  measured  out  some  fifty  yards  of  the  path, 
and  paced  it  to  and  fro,  idly  couiiting  my  steps  ;  for  the 
chill  crept  back  into  my  bones  if  I  halted  for  a  minute. 
Once  or  twice  I  turned  aside  into  the  quarry,  and  stood 
there  tracing  the  veins  in  the  hewn  rock  :  then  back  to  my 
quarterdeck  tramp  and  the  study  of  my  watch.  Ten 
minutes  past  eight  !  Fool — to  expect  her  to  cheat  so  many 
spies.     This  hunger  of  mine  was  becoming  serious.    .    .     . 

A  stone  dislodged — alight  footfall  on  the  path — and  my 
heart  leapt.  It  was  she  !  She  came,  and  earth  flowered 
again,  as  beneath  the  feet  of  the  goddess,  her  namesake. 
I  declare  it  for  a  fact  that  from  the  moment  of  her  coming 
the  weather  began  to  mend. 

^' Flora  !'^ 

"  My  poor  Anne  ! '' 

^^  The  shawl  has  been  useful/'  said  I. 

''  You  are  starving. '' 

^'  That  is  unpleasantly  near  the  truth." 

''I  knew  it.  See,  dear."  A  shawl  of  hodden  grey 
covered  her  head  and  shoulders,  and  from  beneath  it  she 
produced  a  small  basket  and  held  it  up.  "  The  scones  will 
be  hot  yet,  for  they  went  straight  from  the  hearth  into  tlie 
napkin." 

She  led  the  way  to  the  quarry.  I  praised  her  forethought ; 
having  in  those  days  still  to  learn  that  woman's  first  in- 
stinct, when  a  man  is  dear  to  her  and  in  trouble,  is  to  feed 
him.  We  spread  the  napkin  on  a  big  stone  of  the  quarry, 
and  set  out  the  feast  :  scones,  oat-cake,  hard-boiled  eggs, 
a  bottle  of  milk,  and  a  small  flask  of  usquebaugh.  Our 
hands  met  as  we  prepared  the  table.  This  was  our  first 
housekeeping  ;  the  first  breakfast  of  our  honeymoon  I 
called  it,  rallying  her.     ^'Starving  I  may  be; ;  but  starve  I 


360  ST.    IVES 

will  ill  sight  of  food,  unless  you  share  it,"  and,  '^  It  es- 
capes me  for  the  moment,  madam,  if  you  take  sugar/' 
We  leaned  to  each  other  across  the  rock,  and  our  faces 
touched.  Her  cold  cheek  with  the  rain  upon  it,  and  one 
small  damp  curl — for  many  days  I  had  to  feed  upon  the 
memory  of  that  kiss,  and  I  feed  upon  it  yet. 

"  But  it  beats  me  how  you  escaped  them,"  said  I. 

She  laid  down  the  bannock  she  had  been  making  pre- 
tence to  nibble.  ^^  Janet, — that  is  our  dairy  girl — lent  me 
her  frock  and  shawl :  her  shoes  too.  She  goes  out  to  the 
milking  at  six,  and  I  took  her  place.  The  fog  helped  me. 
They  are  hateful.'^ 

''  They  are,  my  dear.     Chevenix " 

"  I  mean  these  clothes.  And  I  am  thinking,  too,  of  the 
poor  cows." 

"  The    instinct   of   animals "     I    lifted    my   glass. 

''Let  us  trust  it  to  find  means  to  attract  the  notice  of  two 
paid  detectives  and  two  volunteers." 

"I  had  rather  count  on  Aunt,"  said  Flora,  with  one  of 
her  rare  and  adorable  smiles,  which  fleeted  as  it  came. 
"  But,  Anne,  we  must  not  waste  time.  They  are  so  many 
against  you,  and  so  near.     0,  be  serious  !  " 

"  Xow  you  are  talking  like  Mr.  Romaine." 

"  For  my  sake,  dear  !"  she  clasped  her  hands.  I  took 
them  in  mine  across  the  table,  and,  unclasping  them, 
kissed  the  palms. 

"Sweetheart,"  I  said,  "before  this  weather  clears " 

"  It  is  clearing." 

"  We  will  give  it  time.  Before  this  weather  clears,  I 
must  be  across  the  valley  and  fetching  a  circuit  for  the 
drovers'  road,  if  you  can  teach  me  when  to  hit  it." 

She  withdrew  one  of  her  hands.  It  went  up  to  the 
throat  of  her  bodice,  and  came  forth  with  my  packet  of 
notes. 


EVENTS    OF    PRIDAY    MORNING  861 

^^Good  Lord!"  said  I:  '^if  I  hadn't  forgotten  the 
money  !" 

''I  think  nothing  teaches  you/'  sighed  she. 

She  had  sewn  them  tightly  in  a  little  bag  of  yellow  oiled 
silk  ;  and  as  I  held  it,  warm  from  her  young  bosom,  and 
turned  it  over  in  my  hand,  I  saw  that  it  was  embroidered 
in  scarlet  thread  with  the  one  word  ''Anne''  beneath  the 
Lion  Eampant  of  Scotland,  in  imitation  of  the  poor  toy  I 
had  carved  for  her — it  seemed,  so  long  ago  ! 

''I  wear  the  original,"  she  murmured. 

I  crushed  the  parcel  into  my  breast  pocket,  and,  taking 
both  hands  again,  fell  on  my  knees  before  her  on  the 
stones. 

''  Flora — my  angel  !  my  heart's  bride  ! " 

"  Hush  ! "  She  sprang  away.  Heavy  footsteps  were 
coming  up  the  path.  I  had  just  time  enough  to  fling  Mrs. 
Gilchrist's  shawl  over  my  head  and  resume  my  seat,  when 
a  couple  of  buxom  country  wives  bustled  past  the  mouth 
of  the  quarry.  They  saw  us,  beyond  a  doubt  :  indeed, 
tliey  stared  hard  at  ns,  and  muttered  some  comment  as 
they  went  by  and  left  us  gazing  at  each  other. 

"  They  took  us  for  a  picnic,"  I  whispered. 

''The  queer  thing,"  said  Flora,  "is  that  they  were  not 
surprised.     The  sight  of  you " 

"  Seen  sideways  in  this  shawl,  and  with  my  legs  hidden 
by  the  stone  here,  I  might  pass  for  an  elderly  female 
junketer." 

"  This  is  scarcely  the  hour  for  a  picnic,"  answered  my 
wise  girl,  "and  decidedly  not  the  weather." 

The  sound  of  another  footstep  prevented  my  reply. 
This  time  the  wayfarer  was  an  old  farmer-looking  fellow 
in  a  shepherd's  plaid  and  bonnet  powdered  wnth  mist. 
He  halted  before  us  and  nodded,  leaning  rheumatically  on 
his  staff. 


362  ST.  IVES 

*'A  coarse  moarnin'.  Ye'U  be  from  Leadbnrn,  I'm 
thinkin'?'' 

''  Put  it  at  Peebles/'  said  I,  making  shift  to  pull  the 
shawl  close  about  my  damning  finery. 

^^  Peebles  ! ''  he  said  reflectively.  "  I've  ne'er  ventured 
so  far  as  Peebles.  I've  contemplated  it  !  But  I  was  none 
sure  whether  I  would  like  it  when  I  got  there.  See  here  : 
I  recommend  ye  no  to  be  lazin'  ower  the  meat,  gin  ye'd 
drap  in  for  the  fun.     A'm  full  late,  mj^sel'  ?  " 

He  passed  on.  What  could  it  mean  ?  AYe  hearkened 
after  his  tread.  Before  it  died  away,  I  sjorang  and  caught 
Flora  by  the  hand. 

*^  Listen  !     Heavens  above  us,  what  is  that  9  " 

^'  It  sounds  to  me  like  Gow's  version  of  Tlie  Caledonia?i 
Hunt's  Delight,  on  a  brass  band." 

Jealous  powers  !  Had  Olympus  consi^ired  to  ridicule 
our  love,  that  we  must  exchange  our  2:)arting  vows  to  the 
public  strains  of  The  Caledonian  Hunfs  Delight,  in  Gow's 
version  and  a  semitone  flat  ?  For  three  seconds  Flora  and 
I  (in  the  words  of  a  later  British  bard)  looked  at  each  other 
with  a  wild  surmise,  silent.  Then  she  darted  to  the  path, 
and  gazed  along  it  down  the  hill. 

''  We  must  run,  Anne.     There  are  more  coming  !  " 

We  left  the  scattered  relics  of  breakfast,  and,  taking 
hands,  scurried  along  the  path  northwards.  A  few  yards, 
and  with  a  sharp  turn  it  led  us  out  of  the  cutting  and  upon 
the  open  hillside.  And  here  we  pulled  up  together  with  a 
gasp. 

Right  beneath  us  lay  a  green  meadow,  dotted  with  a 
crowd  of  two  or  three  hundred  people  ;  and  over  the  nu- 
cleus of  this  gathering,  where  it  condensed  into  a  black 
swarm,  as  of  bees,  there  floated,  not  only  the  dispiriting 
music  of  The  Caledonian  Hunfs  Delight,  but  an  object 
of  size  and  shape  suggesting  the  Genie  escaped  from  the 


EVENTS   OF   FRIDAY    MORNING  363 

Fisherman's  Bottle  as  described  iu  M.  Gallancl's  ingenious 
Thousand  and  One  Kights.  It  was  Byfield's  balloon — the 
monster  Lunardi — in  process  of  inflation. 

^'  Confound  Bj'field  ! ''  I  ejaculated  in  my  haste. 

^^Who  is  Byfield  ?" 

'^  An  aeronaut,  my  dear,  of  bilious  humour  ;  which  no 
doubt  accounts  for  his  owning  a  balloon  striped  alternately 
with  liver-colour  and  pale  blue,  and  for  his  arranging  it 
and  a  brass  band  in  the  very  line  of  my  escape.  That  man 
dogs  me  like  fate."  I  broke  oil  sharply.  ^^  And  after  all, 
why  not  ?"  I  cried. 

The  next  instant  I  swung  round,  as  Flora  uttered  a 
piteous  little  cry  ;  and  there,  behind  us,  in  the  outlet  of 
the  cutting,  stood  Major  Chevenix  and  Eonald. 

The  boy  stepped  forward,  and,  ignoring  my  bow,  laid  a 
hand  on  Flora's  arm. 

"  You  will  come  home  at  once." 

I  touched  his  shoulder.  ''Surely  not,"  I  said,  ''seeing 
that  the  spectacle  apparently  wants  but  ten  minutes  of  its 
climax." 

He  swung  on  me  in  a  passion.  "  For  God's  sake,  St. 
Yves,  don't  force  a  quarrel  now,  of  all  moments  !  Man, 
haven't  you  compromised  my  sister  enough  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that,  having  set  a  watch  on  your  sister 
at  the  suggestion  and  with  the  help  of  a  casual  Major  of 
Foot,  you  might  in  decency  reserve  the  word  '  compro- 
mise '  for  home  consumption  ;  and  further,  that  against 
adversaries  so  poorly  sensitive  to  her  feelings,  your  sister 
may  be  pardoned  for  putting  her  resentment  into  action." 

"Major  Chevenix  is  a  friend  of  the  family."  But  the 
lad  blushed  as  he  said  it. 

"  The  family  ?  "  I  echoed.  "  So  ?  Pray  did  your  aunt 
invite  his  help  ?  No,  no,  my  dear  Ronald  ;  you  cannot 
answer  that.     And   while  you   play  the  game  of  insult  to 


364  ST.  IVES 

your  sister,  sir,  I  will  see  that  you  eat  the  discredit  of 
it." 

*' Excuse  me/'' interposed  the  Major,  stepping  forward. 
''  As  Ronald  said,  this  is  not  the  moment  for  quarrelling  ; 
and  as  yon  observed  sir,  the  climax  is  not  so  far  off.  The 
runner  and  his  men  are  even  now  coming  round  the  hill. 
We  saw  them  mounting  the  slope,  and  (I  may  add)  your 
cousin^s  carriage  drawn  up  on  the  road  below.  The  fact  is. 
Miss  Gilchrist  has  been  traced  to  the  hill ;  and  as  it  secretly 
occurred  to  us  that  the  quarry  might  be  her  objective,  we 
arranged  to  take  the  ascent  on  this  side.  See  there  !  "  he 
cried,  and  flung  out  a  hand. 

I  looked  up.  Sure  enough,  at  that  instant  a  grey-coated 
figure  appeared  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  not  five  hun- 
dred yards  away  to  the  left.  He  Avas  followed  closely  by 
my  friend  of  the  moleskin  waistcoat ;  and  the  pair  came 
sidling  down  the  slope  towards  ns. 

'' Gen tlemen,'' said  I,  '*^  it  appears  that  I  owe  you  my 
thanks.     Your  stratagem  in  any  case  was  kindly  meant." 

^'  There  was  Miss  Gilchrist  to  consider,"  said  the  Major 
stiffly. 

But  Ronald  cried,  "  Quick,  St.  Ives  !  Make  a  dash  back 
by  the  quarry  path.     I  warrant  we  don't  hinder." 

"  Thank  you,  my  friend:  I  have  another  notion.  Flora," 
I  said,  and  took  her  hand,  "  here  is  our  parting.  The  next 
live  minutes  will  decide  much.  Be  brave,  dearest  ;  and 
your  thoughts  go  with  me  till  I  come  again." 

''  Wherever  you  go.  Til  think  of  you.  Whatever  hap- 
pens, I'll  love  you.  Go,  and  God  defend  yon,  Anne  ! " 
Her  breast  heaved,  as  she  faced  the  Major,  red  and  shame- 
fast,  indeed,  but  gloriously  defiant. 

"  Quick  ! "  cried  she  and  her  brother  together.  I  kissed 
her  hand  and  sprang  down  the  hill.  * 

I  heard  a  shout  behind  me ;  and,  glancing  back,  saw  my 


EVENTS    OF   FRIDAY   MORNING  365 

pursuers — three  now,  witli  my  full-bodied  cousin  for  whip- 
per-in— change  their  course  as  I  leapt  a  brook  and  headed 
for  the  crowded  inclosure.  A  somnolent  fat  man,  bulging, 
like  a  feather-bed,  on  a  three-legged  stool,  dozed  at  the  re- 
ceipt of  custom,  with  a  deal  table  and  a  bowl  of  sixpences 
before  him.     I  dashed  on  him  with  a  crown-piece. 

"^  No  change  given, ^Mie  objected,  waking  up  and  fum- 
bling with  a  bundle  of  pink  tickets. 

''  None  required.'"  I  snatched  the  ticket  and  ran  through 
the  gateway. 

I  gave  myself  time  for  another  look  before  mingling  with 
the  crowd.  The  moleskin  waistcoat  was  leading  now,  aud 
had  reached  the  brook  ;  with  red-head  a  yard  or  two  behind, 
and  my  cousin  a  very  bad  third,  panting — it  pleased  me  to 
imagine  how  sorely— across  the  lower  slopes  to  the  east- 
ward. The  janitor  leaned  against  his  toll-bar  and  still 
followed  me  with  a  stare.  Doubtless  by  my  uncovered 
head  and  gala  dress  he  judged  me  an  all-night  reveller — a 
strayed  Bacchanal  fooling  in  the  morrow's  eye. 

Prompt  upon  the  inference  came  inspiration.  I  must 
win  to  the  centre  of  the  crowd,  and  a  crowd  is  invariably 
indulgent  to  a  drunkard.  I  hung  out  the  glaring  sign- 
board of  crapulous  glee.  Lurching,  hiccupping,  jostling, 
apologising  to  all  and  sundry  with  spacious  incoherence,  I 
plunged  my  way  through  the  sightseers,  and  they  gave  me 
passage  with  all  the  good-humour  in  life. 

I  believe  that  I  descended  upon  that  crowd  as  a  godsend, 
a  dancing  rivulet  of  laughter.  They  needed  entertain- 
ment. A  damper,  less  enthusiastic  company  never  gath- 
ered to  a  public  show.  Though  the  rain  had  ceased,  and 
the  sun  shone,  those  who  possessed  umbrellas  were  not  to 
be  coaxed,  but  held  them  aloft  with  a  settled  air  of  gloom • 
which  defiel  the  lenitives  of  nature  and  the  spasmodic 
cajolery  of  the  worst  band  in  Edinburgh.     "  It'll  be  near 


366  ST.  IVES 

full,  Jock  ?  "  "  It  Willi."  "  He'll  be  startin'  in  a  meenit  ?" 
''  Aiblins  he  wall."  "  AVill  this  be  the  sixt  time  yeVe  seen 
him?"  "1  shiidna  wonder."  It  occurred  to  me  that, 
had  we  come  to  bury  Byfield,  not  to  praise  him,  we  might 
have  displayed  a  blither  interest. 

Byiield  himself,  bending  from  the  car  beneath  his  gently 
swaying  canopy  of  liver-colour  and  pale  blue,  directed  the 
proceedings  with  a  mien  of  saturnine  preoccupation.  He 
may  have  been  calculating  the  receipts.  As  I  squeezed  to 
the  front,  his  underlings  were  shifting  the  pipe  which  con- 
veyed the  hydrogen  gas,  and  the  Lunardi  strained  gently 
at  its  ropes.  Somebody  with  a  pla3^ful  thrust  sent  me 
staggering  into  the  clear  space  beneath. 

And  here  a  voice  hailed  and  fetched  me  up  with  around 
turn. 

^'  Ducie,  by  all  that's  friendly  !  Playmate  of  my  youth 
and  prop  of  my  declining  years,  how  goes  it  ?" 

It  was  the  egregious  Dalmahoy.  He  clung  and  steadied 
himself  by  one  of  the  dozen  ropes  binding  the  car  to  earth  ; 
and  with  an  air  of  doing  it  all  by  his  unaided  cleverness — 
an  air  so  indescribably,  so  majestically  drunken,  that  I 
could  have  blushed  for  the  poor  expedients  which  had  car- 
ried me  through  the  throng. 

"  You'll  excuse  me  if  I  don't  let  go.  Fact  is,  we've  been 
keeping  it  up  a  bit  all  night.  Byfield  leaves  us — to  ex- 
patiate in  realms  untrodden  by  the  foot  of  man — 

"  The  feathered  tribes  on  pinions  cleave  the  air  ; 
Not  so  the  mackerel,  and,  still  less,  the  bear." 

But  Byfield  does  it — Byfield  in  his  Monster  Foolardi.  One 
stroke  of  this  knife  (always  supposing  I  miss  my  own  hand), 
and  the  rope  is  severed  :  our  common  friend  scales  the 
empyrean.     But  he'll   come  back — oh,  never  doubt,  he'll 


EVENTS   OF   FRIDAY   MOKNING  367 

come  back  ! — and  begin  the  dam  business  over  again. 
Tha's  the  hiw  'gravity  'cording  to  Byfield." 

Mr.  Dalmahoy  concluded  inconsequently  with  a  vocal 
imitation  of  a  post-horn  ;  and,  looking  up,  I  saw  the  head 
and  shoulders  of  Byfield  projected  over  the  rim  of  the 
car. 

He  drew  the  natural  inference  from  my.  dress  and  de- 
meanour, and  groaned  aloud. 

'^  0,  go  away — get  out  of  it,  Ducie  !  Isn't  one  natural 
born  ass  enough  for  me  to  deal  with  ?  You  fellows  are 
guying  the  whole  show  ! " 

"  Byfield  ! "  I  called  up  eagerly,  "  I'm  not  drunk.  Reach 
me  down  a  ladder,  quick  !  A  hundred  guineas  if  you'll 
take  me  with  you  ! "  I  saw  over  the  crowd,  not  ten  deep 
behind  me,  the  red  head  of  the  man  in  grey. 

"  That  proves  it,"  said  Byfield.  "  Go  away  ;  or  at  least 
keep  quiet.  I'm  going  to  make  a  speech."  He  cleared  his 
throat.     ''  Ladies  and  gentlemen " 

I  held  up  my  packet  of  notes.  "Here's  the  money, — 
for  pity's  sake,  man  !  There  are  bailiffs  after  me,  in  the 
crowd  I  " 

" the  spectacle  which  you  have  honoured  with  your 

enlightened  patronage 1  tell  you  I  can't."     He  cast  a 

glance  behind  him  into  the  car •'  with  your  enlightened 

patronage,  needs  but  few  words  of  introduction  or  com- 
mendation." 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  from  Dalmahoy. 

''Your  attendance  proves  the  sincerity  of  your  inter- 
est  " 

I  spread  out  the  notes  under  his  eyes.  He  blinked,  but 
resolutely  lifted  his  voice. 

''The  spectacle  of  a  solitary  voyager " 

"  Two  hundred  !  "  I  called  up. 

^^The    spectacle   of   two   hundred   solitary   voyagers— 


368  ST.    IVES 

cradled  in  the  brain  of  a  Montgolfier  and  a  Charles 0, 

stop  it !     I'm  no  public  speaker  !     How  the  deuce ? " 

There  was  a  lurch  and  a  heave  in  the  crowd.  ^^  Pitch 
oot  the  drunken  loon  ! "  cried  a  voice.  On  top  of  it  I  heard 
my  cousin  bawling  for  a  clear  passage.  With  the  tail  of 
my  eye  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  plethoric  perspiring 
face  as  he  came  charging  past  the  barrels  of  the  hydrogen- 
apparatus  ;  and,  with  that,  Byfield  had  shaken  down  a  rope- 
ladder  and  fixed  it,  and  I  was  scrambling  up  like  a  cat. 

"  Cut  the  ropes  ! " 

^'Stop  him  !''  my  cousin  bawled.  '^  Stop  the  balloon  ! 
It's  Champdivers,  the  murderer  !  " 

"Cut  the  ropes  \"  vociferated  Byfield  ;  and  to  my  in- 
finite relief  I  saw  that  Dalmahoy  was  doing  his  best.  A 
hand  clutched  at  my  heel.  I  let  out  viciously,  amid  a  roar 
of  the  crowd  ;  felt  the  kick  reach  and  rattle  home  on 
somebody's  teeth  ;  and,  as  the  crowd  made  a  rush  and  the 
balloon  swayed  and  shot  upwards,  heaved  myself  over  the 
rim  into  the  car. 

Kecovering  myself  on  the  instant,  I  bent  over.  I  had  on 
my  tongue  a  neat  farewell  for  Alain,  but  the  sight  of  a  hun- 
dred upturned  and  contorted  faces  silenced  me  as  a  blow 
might.  There  had  lain  my  real  peril,  in  the  sudden  wild- 
beast  rage  now  suddenly  baffled.  I  read  it,  as  clear  as 
print,  and  sickened.  Nor  was  Alain  in  a  posture  to  listen. 
My  kick  had  sent  Moleskin  flying  on  top  of  him  ;  and  borne 
to  earth,  prone  beneath  the  superincumbent  bulk  of  his 
retainer  he  lay  with  hands  outspread  like  a  swimmer's 
and  nose  buried  in  the  plashy  soil. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 


All  this  I  took  in  at  a  glance ;  I  dare  say  in  three  sec- 
onds or  less.  The  hubbub  beneath  us  dropped  to  a  low, 
rumbling  bass.  Suddenly  a  woman's  scream  divided  it — 
one  high-pitched  penetrating  scream,  followed  by  silence. 
And  then  as  a  pack  of  hounds  will  start  into  cry,  voice  after 
voice  caught  up  the  scream  and  reduplicated  it  until  the 
whole  enclosure  rang  with  alarm. 

''Hullo  I"  Byfield  called  to  me:  ''what  the  deuce  is 
happening  now  ?"  and  ran  to  his  side  of  the  car.  "  Good 
Lord,  it's  Dalmahoy  ! '' 

It  was.  Beneath  us,  at  the  tail  of  a  depending  rope, 
that  unhappy  lunatic  dangled  between  earth  and  sky.  He 
had  been  the  first  to  cut  the  tether  ;  and,  having  severed 
it  below  his  grasp,  had  held  on  while  the  others  cut  loose, 
taking  even  the  asinine  precaution  to  loop  the  end  twice 
round  his  wrist.  Of  course  the  upward  surge  of  the  bal- 
loon had  heaved  him  off  his  feet,  and  his  muddled  instinct 
did  the  rest.  Clutching  now  with  both  hands,  he  was 
borne  aloft  like  a  lamb  from  the  flock. 

So  we  reasoned  afterwards.  "  The  grapnel !  "  gasped 
Byfield  ;  for  Dalmahoy's  rope  was  fastened  beneath  the 
floor  of  the  car,  and  not  to  be  reached  by  us.  We  fumbled 
to  cast  the  grapnel  loose,  and  shouted  down  together  : 

"For  God's  sake  hold  on  !     Catch  the  anchor  when  it 
comes  !     You'll  break  your  neck  if  you  drop  ! " 
24  369 


370  ST.    IVES 

He  swung  into  sight  again  beyond  the  edge  of  the  floor, 
and  uplifted  a  strained,  white  face. 

We  cast  loose  the  grapnel,  lowered  it  and  jerked  it  tow- 
ards him.  He  swung  past  it  like  a  pendulum,  caught  it 
with  one  hand  and  missed  ;  came  flying  back  on  the  reced- 
ing curve  and  missed  again.  At  the  third  attempt  he 
blundered  right  against  it,  and  flung  an  arm  over  one  of 
the  flukes,  next  a  leg,  and  in  a  trice  we  were  hauling  up, 
hand  over  hand. 

We  dragged  him  inboard.  He  was  pale  but  undefeatedly 
voluble. 

*^Must  apologise  to  you  fellows,  really.  Dam  silly, 
clumsy  kind  of  thing  to  do  ;  might  have  been  awkward  too. 
Thank  you,  Byfield  my  boy,  I  will  :  two  fingers  onl}' — a 
harmless  steadier." 

He  took  the  flask  and  was  lifting  it.  But  his  jaw 
dropped  and  his  hand  hung  arrested. 

''  He's  going  to  faint,''  I  cried.     "  The  strain " 

*'  Strain  on  j^our  grandmother,  Ducie  !      What's  that  V 

He  was  staring  j)ast  my  shoulder,  and  on  the  instant  I 
was  aware  of  a  voice — not  the  aeronaut's — speaking  be- 
hind me  and,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  clouds, — 

'^  I  take  ye  to  witness.  Mister  Byfield " 

Consider  if  you  please.  For  six  days  I  had  been  oscil- 
lating wiihin  a  pretty  complete  circumference  of  alarms. 
It  is  small  blame  to  me,  I  hope,  that  with  my  nerve  on  so 
nice  a  pivot  I  quivered  and  swung  to  this  new  apprehen- 
sion like  a  needle  in  a  compass  box. 

On  the  floor  of  the  car,  at  my  feet,  lay  a  heap  of  plaid 
rugs  and  overcoats,  from  which,  successively  and  painfully, 
there  emerged  first  a  hand  clutching  a  rusty  beaver  hat, 
next  a  mildly  indignant  face  in  si^ectacles,  and  finally  the 
rearward  of  a  very  small  man  in  a  seedy  suit  of  black.  He 
rose  on  his  knees,  his  finger-tips  resting  on  the  floor,  and 


371 

contemplated  the  aeronaut  over  his  glasses  with  a  world  of 
reproach. 

"  I  take  ye  to  witness,  Mr.  Byfield  !  " 

Byfield  mopped  a  perspiring  brow. 

"  My  dear  sir/'  he  stammered,  ''  all  a  mistake— no  fault 
of  mine — explain  presently  "  ;  then,  as  one  catching  at  an 
inspiration,  ''Allow  me  to  introduce  you.  Mr.  Dalmahoy, 
Mr.  '' 

'^  My  name  is  Sheepshanks,"  said  the  little  man  stiffly. 
*'  But  you'll  excuse  me " 

Mr.  Dalmahoy  interrupted  with  a  playful  cat-call. 

^'  Hear,  hear  !  Silence  !  '  His  name  is  Sheepshanks. 
On  the  Grampian  Hills  his  father  kept  his  flocks — a  thou- 
sand sheep" — and,  I  make  no  doubt,  shanks  in  proportion. 
Excuse  you,  Sheepshanks  ?  My  dear  sir  !  At  this  alti- 
tude one  shank  was  more  than  we  had  a  right  to  expect ; 
the  plural  multiplies  the  obligation."  Keeping  a  tight 
hold  on  his  hysteria,  Dalmahoy  steadied  himself  by  a  rope 
and  bowed. 

"And  I,  sir," — as  Mr.  Sheepshanks'  thoroughly  bewil- 
dered gaze  travelled  around  and  met  mine — "\,  sir,  am 
the  Vicomte  Anne  de  Keroual  de  St.  Yves,  at  your  service. 
I  haven't  a  notion  how  or  why  you  come  to  be  here  ;  but 
you  seem  likely  to  be  an  acquisition.  On  my  part,"  I  con- 
tinued, as  there  leapt  into  my  mind  the  stanza  T  had 
vainly  tried  to  recover  in  Mrs.  McRankine's  sitting-room, 
"  I  have  the  honour  to  refer  you  to  the  inimitable  Roman 
Flaccus — 

'  Virtus,  recludens  immeritis  mori 
Coelum  negatM  temptat  iter  via, 
Coetusque  vulgaris  et  udam 

Spernit  humum  fugiente  penna.' 

— you  have  the  Latin,  sir  ?  " 

''Not  a  word."     He  subsided  upon  the  pile  of  rugs  and 


372  ST.  IVES 

spread  out  Ins  hands  in  protest.  ''1  tak'  ye  to  witness, 
^Ir.  Byfield  ! '' 

''  Then  in  a  minute  or  so  I  will  do  myself  the  pleasure 
of  construing,"  said  I,  and  turned  to  scan  the  earth  we 
were  leaving — I  had  not  guessed  how  rapidly. 

We  contemplated  it  from  the  height  of  six  hundred  feet 
— or  so  Byfield  asserted  after  consulting  his  barometer. 
He  added  that  this  was  a  mere  nothing ;  the  wonder  was 
tlie  balloon  had  risen  at  all  with  one-half  of  the  total  folly 
of  Edinburgh  clinging  to  the  car.  I  passed  the  possible  in- 
accuracy and  certain  ill-temper  of  this  calculation.  He  had 
(he  explained)  made  jettison  of  at  least  a  hundredweight 
of  sand  ballast.  I  could  only  hope  it  had  fallen  on  my 
cousin.  To  me,  six  hundred  feet  appeared  a  very  respect- 
able eminence.     And  the  view  was  ravishing. 

The  Lunar di  mounting  through  a  stagnant  calm  in  a 
line  almost  vertical,  had  pierced  the  morning  mists,  and 
now  swam  emancipated  in  a  heaven  of  exquisite  blue.  Be- 
low us,  by  some  trick  of  eyesight,  the  country  had  grown 
concave,  its  horizons  curving  up  like  the  rim  of  a  shallow 
bowl — a  bowl  heaped,  in  point  of  fact,  with  sea-fog,  but  to 
our  eyes  with  a  froth  delicate  and  dazzling  as  a  whipped 
syllabub  of  snow.  Upon  it  the  travelling  shadow  of  the 
balloon  became  no  shadow  but  a  stain  ;  an  amethyst  (you 
might  call  it)  purged  of  all  grosser  properties  than  colour 
and  lucency.  At  times  thrilled  by  no  perceptible  wind, 
ratlier  by  the  pulse  of  the  sun's  rays,  the  froth  shook  and 
parted  ;  and  then  behold,  deep  in  the  crevasses,  vignetted 
and  shining,  an  acre  or  two  of  the  earth  of  man's  business 
and  fret — tilled  slopes  of  the  Lothians,  ships  dotted  on  the 
Forth,  the  capital  like  a  hive  that  some  child  had  smoked 
— the  ear  of  fancy  could  almost  hear  it  buzzing. 

I  snatched  the  glass  from  Byfield,  and  brought  it  to 
focus  upon  one  of  these  peepshow  rifts  :  and  lo  !  at  the 


"the  incomplete  aeronauts''     373 

foot  of  the  shafts  imaged,  as  it  were,  far  down  in  aluminous 
well,  a  green  hillside  and  three  figures  standing.  A  white 
speck  fluttered  ;  and  fluttered  until  the  rift  closed  again. 
Flora's  handkerchief  !  Blessings  on  the  brave  hand  that 
waved  it  ! — at  a  moment  when  (as  I  have  since  heard  and 
knew  witliout  need  of  hearing)  her  heart  was  down  in  her 
shoes,  or,  to  speak  accurately,  in  the  milkmaid  Janet's. 
vSingular  in  many  things,  she  was  at  one  with  the  rest  of 
lier  sex  in  its  native  and  incurable  distrust  of  man's  inven- 
tions. 

I  am  bound  to  say  that  my  own  faith  in  aerostatics  was 
a  plant — a  sensitive  plant — of  extremely  tender  growth. 
Either  I  failed,  a  while  back,  in  painting  the  emotions  of 
my  descent  of  the  '^  Devil's  Elbow,"  or  the  reader  knows 
that  I  am  a  chicken-hearted  fellow  about  a  height.  I 
make  him  a  present  of  the  admission.  Set  me  on  a  plane 
superficies,  and  I  will  jog  with  all  the  insouciance  of  a 
rolling  stone  ;  toss  me  in  air  and,  with  the  stone  in  the 
child's  adage,  I  am  in  the  hands  of  the  devil.  Even 
to  the  qualified  instability  of  a  sea-going  ship  I  have 
ever  committed  myself  with  resignation  rather  than  confi- 
dence. 

But  to  my  unspeakable  relief  the  Lnnardi  floated  up- 
wards, and  continued  to  float,  almost  without  a  tremor. 
Only  by  reading  the  barometer,  or  by  casting  scraps  of 
paper  overboard,  could  we  tell  that  the  machine  moved  at 
all.  Now  and  again  we  revolved  slowly  :  so  Byfield's  com- 
pass informed  us,  but  for  ourselves  we  had  never  guessed 
it.  Of  dizziness  I  felt  no  longer  a  symptom,  for  the  suflfi- 
cient  reason  that  the  provocatives  were  nowhere  at  hand. 
We  were  the  only  point  in  space,  without  possibility  of 
comparison  with  another.  We  were  made  one  with  the 
clean  silences  receiving  us  ;  and  speaking  only  for  the  Vi- 
comte  Anne  de  St.  Yves,  I  dare  assert  that  for  five  min- 


874  ST.  IVES 

utes  a  newly  bathed  infant  had  not  been  less  conscious  of 
orisfinal  sin. 

o 

"  But  look  here,  you  know  ^' — it  was  Byfield  at  my 
elbow — **^rm  a  public  character,  by  George;  and  this 
puts  me  in  a  devilish  awkward  position." 

^"^  So  it  does,"  I  agreed.  "  You  proclaimed  yourself  a  sol- 
itary voyager  ;  and  here,  to  the  naked  eye,  are  four  of  us." 

"  And  pray  how  can  I  help  that  ?  If,  at  the  last  mo- 
ment, a  couple  of  lunatics  come  rushing  in " 

*'  They  still  leave  Sheepshanks  to  be  accounted  for." 
Byfield  began  to  irritate  me.  I  turned  to  the  stowaway. 
*^  Perhaps,"  said  I,  "  Mr.  Sheepshanks  will  explain." 

^'1  paid  in  advance,"  Mr.  Sheepshanks  began,  eager  to 
seize  the  opening  presented.  "  The  fact  is,  I'm  a  married 
man." 

*'  Already  at  two  j)oints  you  have  the  advantage  of  us. 
Proceed,  sir  ! " 

"You  were  good  enough  just  now  to  give  me  your 
name,  Mr. " 

''  The  Yicomte  Anne  de  Keroual  de  St.  Yves." 

"  It  is  a  somewhat  difficult  name  to  remember." 

"  If  that  be  all,  sir,  within  two  minutes  you  shall  have 
a  memoria  techniaca  prepared  for  use  during  the  voyage." 

Mr.  Sheepshanks  harked  back.  "  I  am  a  married  man, 
and — d'ye  see  ? — Mrs.  Sheepshanks,  as  you  might  say, 
has  no  sympathy  with  ballooning.  She  was  a  Guthrie 
of  Dumfries." 

"  Which  accounts  for  it,  to  be  sure,"  said  I. 

"  To  me,   sir,  on  the   contrary,  aerostatics  have   long 

been  an  alluring  study.     I  might  even,  Mr.  .  I  might 

even,  I  say,  term  it  the  passion  of  my  life."  His  mild 
eyes  shone  behind  their  glasses.  "  I  remember  Yincent 
Lunardi,  sir.  I  was  present  in  Heriot's  Gardens  when  he 
made  an  ascension  there  in  October  '85.     He  came  down 


*'the  incomplete  aeronauts"  375 

at  Cupar.  The  Society  of  Gentleman  Golfers  at  Cupar 
presented  him  with  an  address  ;  and  at  Edinburgh  he  was 
admitted  Knight  Companion  of  the  Beggar's  Benison,  a 
social  company,  or  (as  I  may  say)  crew,  since  defunct.  A 
thin-faced  man,  sir.  He  wore  a  peculiar  bonnet,  if  I 
may  use  the  expression,  very  much  cocked  up  behind.  'Jlie 
shape  became  fashionable.  He  once  pawned  his  watch 
with  me,  sir  ;  that  being  my  profession.  I  regret  to  say 
he  redeemed  it  subsequently  ;  otherwise  I  might  have  the 
pleasure  of  showing  it  to  you.  0  yes,  the  theory  of 
ballooning  has  long  been  a  passion  with  me.  But  in 
deference  to  Mrs.  Sheepshanks  I  have  abstained  from  the 
actual  practice — until  to-day.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  my 
wife  believes  me  to  be  brushing  off  the  cobwebs  in  the 
Kyles  of  Bute.^' 

''  Are  there  any  cobwebs  in  the  Kyles  of  Bute  ? ''  asked 
Dalmahoy,  in  a  tone  unnaturally  calm. 

'^'A  figure  of  speech,  sir — as  one  might  say,  holiday- 
keeping  there.  I  paid  Mr.  Byfield  five  pounds  in  advance. 
I  have  his  receipt.  And  the  stipulation  was  that  I  should 
be  concealed  in  the  car  and  make  the  ascension  with  him 
alone." 

''  Are  we  then  to  take  it,  sir,  that  our  company  offends 
you  ?  "  I  demanded. 

He  made  haste  to  disclaim.  ''  Not  at  all :  decidedly  not 
in  the  least.  But  the  chances  were  for  far  less  agreeable 
associates."  I  nodded.  ''  And  a  bargain's  a  bargain,"  he 
wound  up. 

''So  it  is,"  said  I.  '' Byfield,  hand  Mr.  Sheepshanks 
back  his  five  pounds." 

"0,  come  now!"  the  aeronaut  objected.  ''And  wdio 
may  you  be  to  be  ordering  a  man  about  ?  " 

"  I  believe  I  have  already  answered  that  question  twice 
in  your  hearing." 


376  ST.  IVES 

'^Mosha  the  Viscount  Thingamy  de  Something-or- 
other  ?    I  dare  say  !  " 

''  Have  you  any  objection  ?  '' 

''^Xot  the  smallest.  For  all  I  care,  you  are  Eobert 
.Burns,  or  Xapoleon  Buonaparte,  or  anything  from  the 
Mother  of  the  Gracchi  to  Balaam's  Ass.  But  I  knew  you 
first  as  Mr.  Ducie;  and  you  may  take  it  that  I'm  Mr. 
Don't  see."  He  reached  up  a  hand  towards  the  valve- 
string. 

**  AVhat  are  you  proposing  to  do  ?" 

"  To  descend." 

'^  What  ? — back  to  the  enclosure  ?" 

"^  Scarcely  that,  seeing  that  we  have  struck  a  northerly 
current,  and  are  travelling  at  the  rate  of  thirty  miles  an 
hour,  perhaps.  That's  Broad  Law  to  the  south  of  us,  as  I 
make  it  out." 

*'  But  why  descend  at  all  ?  " 

^'  Because  it  sticks  in  my  head  that  some  one  in  the 
crowd  called  you  by  a  name  that  wasn't  Ducie  ;  and  by  a 
title,  for  that  matter,  which  didn't  sound  like  "  Viscoun-t." 
I  took  it  at  the  time  for  a  constable's  trick  ;  but  I  begin  to 
have  my  strong  doubts." 

The  fellow  was  dangerous.  I  stooped  nonchalantly,  on 
pretence  of  picking  up  a  plaid  ;  for  the  air  had  turned  bit- 
terly cold  of  a  sudden. 

^'  Mr.  By  field,  a  word  in  your  private  ear,  if  you  will." 

^'  As  you  please,"  said  he,  dropping  the  valve-string. 

We  leaned  together  over  the  breastwork  of  the  car.  ^^  If 
I  mistake  not,"  I  said,  speaking  low,  ^^the  name  was 
Champdivers." 

He  nodded. 

"  The  gentleman  who  raised  that  foolish  but  infernally 
risky  cry  was  my  own  cousin,  the  Viscount  de  St.  Yves.  I 
give  you  my  word  of  honour  to  that."     Observing  that 


^177 

this  staggered  liim,  I  added,  mighty  slyly,  "  I  suppose  it 
doesn't  occur  to  you  now  that  the  whole  affair  was  a  game 
for  a  friendly  wager  ?  '^ 

"  No/'  he  answered,  brutally,  ''it  doesn't.  And  what's 
more,  it  won't  go  down." 

''In  that  respect,"  said  I,  with  a  sudden  change  of  key, 
"  it  resembles  your  balloon.  But  I  admire  the  obstinacy 
of  your  suspicions  ;  since,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  am 
Champdivers." 

"  The  mur " 

"  Certainly  not.     I  killed  the  man  in  fair  duel." 

"Ha!"  He  eyed  me  with  sour  distrust.  "That  is 
what  you  have  to  prove." 

"  Man  alive,  you  don't  expect  me  to  demonstrate  it  up 
here,  by  the  simple  apparatus  of  ballooning  !  " 

"There  is  no  talk  of  'up  here,'"  said  he,  and  reached 
for  the  valve-string. 

"  Say  '  down  there  '  then.  Down  there  it  is  no  business 
of  the  accused  to  prove  his  innocence.  By  what  I  have 
heard  of  the  law,  English  or  Scotch,  the  boot  is  on  the 
otlier  leg.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  I  can  prove.  I  can 
prove,  sir,  that  I  have  been  a  deal  in  your  company  of 
late  ;  that  I  supped  with  you  and  Mr.  Dalmahoy  no  longer 
ago  than  Wednesday.  You* may  put  it  that  we  three  are 
here  together  again  by  accident  ;  that  you  never  sus- 
pected me  ;  that  my  invasion  of  your  machine  was  a  com- 
plete surprise  to  you,  and,  so  far  as  you  were  concerned, 
wholly  fortuitous.  But  ask  yourself  what  any  intelligent 
jury  is  likely  to  make  of  that  cock-and-bull  story."  Mr. 
Byfield  was  visibly  shaken.  "  Add  to  this,"  I  proceeded, 
"  that  you  have  to  explain  Sheepshanks  ;  to  confess  that 
you  gulled  the  public  by  advertising  a  lonely  ascension, 
and  haranguing  a  befooled  multitude  to  the  same  intent, 
when,  all  the  time,  you  had  a  companion  concealed  in  the 


378  ST.   IVES 

cur.  'A  public  character'  you  call  3^oiirself  !  My  word, 
sir !  there'll  be  no  mistake  about  it  this  time." 

I  paused,  took  breath,  and  shook  a  finger  at  him  : — 

''  Now  just  you  listen  to  me,  Mr.  Byfield.  Pull  that 
string  and  a  sadly  discredited  aeronaut  descends  upon  the 
least  charitable  of  worlds.  Why,  sir,  in  any  case  your 
game  in  Edinburgh  is  up.  The  public  is  dog-tired  of  you 
and  your  ascensions,  as  any  observant  child  in  to-day's 
crowd  could  have  told  you.  The  truth  was  there  staring 
you  in  the  face  ;  and  next  time  even  your  purblind  vanity 
must  recognise  it.  Consider  ;  I  offered  you  two  hundred 
guineas  for  the  convenience  of  your  balloon.  I  now  double 
that  offer  on  condition  that  I  become  its  owner  during  this 
trip,  and  that  you  manipulate  it  as  I  wish.  Here  are  the 
notes ;  and  out  of  the  total  you  will  refund  five  pounds  to 
Mr.  Sheepshanks." 

Byfield's  complexion  had  grown  streaky  as  his  balloon  ; 
and  with  colours  not  so.  very  dissimilar.  I  had  stabbed 
upon  his  vital  self-conceit,  and  the  man  Avas  really  hurt. 

*'  You  must  give  me  time,"  he  stammered. 

''  By  all  means."  I  knew  he  was  beaten.  But  only  the 
poorness  of  my  case  excused  me,  and  I  had  no  affection  for 
the  weapons  used.  I  turned  with  relief  to  the  others. 
Dalmahoy  was  seated  on  the  floor  of  the  car,  and  helping 
Mr.  Sheepshanks  to  unpack  a  carpet  bag. 

^'  This  will  be  whiskey,"  the  little  pawnbroker  an- 
nounced :  "  three  bottles.  My  wife  said,  '  Surely,  Elshen- 
der,  ye'll  find  whiskey  where  ye're  gaun.'  '  No  doubt  I 
will,'  said  I,  ^but  I'm  not  very  confident  of  its  quality  ; 
and  it's  a  far  step.'  My  itinerary,  Mr.  Dalmahoy,  was 
planned  from  Greenock  to  the  Kyles  of  Bute  and  back, 
and  thence  coastwise  to  Saltcoats  and  the  land  of  Burns.  I 
told  her,  if  she  had  anything  to  communicate,  to  address 
her  letter  to  the  care  of  the  postmaster,  Ayr — ha,  ha  ! " 


379 

He  broke  off  and  gazed  reproachfully  into  Dalmahoy's  im- 
passive face.  *'Ayr — air/'  he  explained  :  ''a  little  j)lay 
upon  words/' 

"  Skye  would  have  been  better,"  suggested  Dalmahoy, 
without  moving  an  eyelid. 

"Skye?  Dear  me — capital,  caj^ital !  Only  you  see/'* 
he  urged,  ''she  wouldn't  expect  me  to  be  in  Skye/' 

A  minute  later  he  drew  me  aside.  ^'  Excellent  company 
your  friend  is,  sir  ;  most  gentlemanly  manners ;  but  at 
times,  if  I  may  say  so,  not  very  gleg/' 

My  hands  by  this  time  were  numb  with  cold.  "We  had 
been  ascending  steadily,  and  Byfield's  English  thermom- 
eter stood  at  thirteen  degrees.  I  borrowed  from  the  heap 
a  thicker  overcoat,  in  the  pocket  of  wdiich  I  was  lucky 
enough  to  fihd  a  pair  of  furred  gloves  ;  and  leaned  over 
for  another  look  below,  still  with  a  corner  of  my  eye  for 
the  aeronaut,  who  stood  biting  his  nails,  as  far  from  me  as 
the  car  allowed. 

The  sea-fog  had  vanished,  and  the  south  of  Scotland  lay 
spread  beneath  us  from  sea  to  sea,  like  a  map  in  monotint. 
Nay,  yonder  was  England,  with  the  Solway  cleaving  the 
coast — a  broad,  bright  spearhead,  slightly  bent  at  the  tip 
— and  the  fells  of  Cumberland  beyond,  mere  hummocks 
on  the  horizon  ;  all  else  flat  as  a  board  or  as  the  bottom  of 
a  saucer.  White  threads  of  high-road  connected  town  to 
town  :  the  intervening  hills  had  fallen  down,  and  the 
towns,  as  if  in  fright,  had  shrunk  into  themselves,  con- 
tracting their  suburbs  as  a  snail  his  horns.  The  old  poet 
was  right  who  said  that  Olympians  had  a  delicate  view. 
The  lace-makers  of  Valenciennes  might  have  had  the  trac- 
ing of  those  towns  and  high-roads  ;  those  knots  of  guijmre 
and  ligatures  of  finest  re'seaw-work.  And  when  I  consid- 
ered that  what  I  looked  down  on— this,  with  its  arteries 
and  nodules  of  public  traffic — was  a  nation ;   that  each 


380  ST.    IVES 

silent  nodule  held  some  thousands  of  men,  each  man 
moderately  ready  to  die  in  defence  of  his  slioj^board  and 
hen-roost ;  it  came  into  my  mind  that  my  Emperor's  em- 
blem was  the  bee,  and  this  Britain  the  spider's  web,  sure 
enough. 

Byfield  came  across  and  stood  at  my  elbow. 

"  Mr.  Ducie,  I  have  considered  your  offer,  and  accept 
it.     It's  a  curst  j)osition " 

*'  For  a  public  character,"  I  put  in  affably. 

''  Don't,  sir  !  I  beg  that  you  don't.  Your  words  just 
now  made  me  suffer  a  good  deal ;  the  more,  that  I  per- 
ceive a  part  of  them  to  be  true.  An  aeronaut,  sir,  has 
ambition — how  can  he  help  it  ?  The  public,  the  news- 
papers feed  it  for  a  while  ;  they  fete,  and  flatter,  and  ap- 
plaud him.  But  in  its  heart  the  public  ranks  him  with 
the  mountebank,  and  reserves  the  right  to  drop  him  when 
tired  of  his  tricks.  Is  it  wonderful  that  he  forgets  this 
sometimes  ?  For  in  his  own  thoughts  he  is  not  a  moun- 
tebank— no,  by  God,  he  is  not  ! " 

The  man  spoke  with  genuine  passion.  I  held  out  my 
hand. 

''Mr.  Byfield,  my  words  were  brutal.  I  beg  you  will 
allow  me  to  take  them  back." 

He  shook  his  head.  ''They  were  true,  sir  ;  partly  true, 
that  is." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure.  A  balloon,  as  you  hint  and  I  begin 
to  discover,  may  alter  the  perspective  of  a  man's  ambitions. 
Here  are  the  notes ;  and  on  the  top  of  them  I  give  you  my 
word  that  you  are  not  abetting  a  criminal.  How  long 
should  the  Lunardi  be  able  to  maintain  itself  in  air  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  tried  it ;  but  I  calculate  on  twenty  hours 
— say  twenty-four  at  a  pinch." 

"  AYe  will  test  it.  T4ie  current,  I  see,  is  still  north-east, 
or  from  that  to  north-by-east.     And  our  height  ?  " 


"the  incomplete  aeronauts"  381 

He  consulted  the  barometer.  "Something  under  three 
miles." 

Dcilmahoy  heard  and  whooped.  "Hi  !  you  fellows, 
come  to  lunch  !  Sandwiches,  shortbread,  and  cleanest 
Glenlivet — Elshender's  Feast  :— 

'  Let  old  Tomotbeus  yield  the  prize, 
Or  both  divide  the  crown  ; 
He  raised  a  mortal  to  the  skies * 

Sheepshanks  provided  the  whiskey.  Rise,  Elshender — 
observe  that  you  have  no  worlds  left  to  conquer,  and  hav- 
ing shed  the  perfunctory  tear,  pass  the  corkscrew.  Come 
along,  Ducie  ;  come  my  Da?dalian  boy  ;  if  you  are  not 
hungry,  I  am^  and  so  is — Sheepshanks — What  the  dickens 
do  you  mean  by  consorting  with  a  singular  verb  ?  Ver- 
I)2im  cum  nominativo — I  should  say,  so  are  slieepshanks." 

Byfield  produced  from  one  of  the  lockers  a  pork  pie  and 
a  bottle  of  sherry  (the  viaticum  in  choice  and  assortment 
almost  explained  the  man)  and  we  sat  down  to  the  repast. 
Dalmahoy's  tongue  ran  like  a  brook.  He  addressed  Mr. 
Sheepshanks  with  light-hearted  impartiality  as  Philip's 
royal  son,  as  the  Man  of  Ross,  as  the  divine  Clarinda.  He 
elected  him  Professor  of  Marital  Diplomacy  to  the  Univer- 
sity of  Cramond.  He  passed  the  bottle  and  called  on  him 
for  a  toast,  a  song — "  Oblige  me,  Slieepshanks,  by  making 
the  welkin  ring."  Mr.  Sheepshanks  beamed,  and  gave  us 
a  sentiment  instead.  Tlie  little  man  was  enjoying  hi.nself 
amazingly.  "Fund  of  spirits  your  friend  has,  to  be  sure, 
sir,  quite  a  fund." 

Either  my  own  spirits  were  running  low  or  the  bitter 
cold  had  congealed  them.  I  was  conscious  of  my  thin 
ball  suit,  and  moreover  of  a  masterful  desire  of  sleep.  I 
felt  no  inclination  for  food,  but  drained  half  a  tinnl)lerful 
of  the  Sheepshanks'  whiskey,  and  crawled  beneath  the  pile 


382  ST.  IVES 

of  plaids.  Byfield  considerately  helped  me  to  arrange 
them.  He  may  or  may  not  have  caught  some  accent  of 
uncertainty  in  my  thanks  ;  at  any  rate  he  thought  fit  to 
add  the  assurance,  ^^You  may  trust  me,  Mr.  Ducie."  I 
saw  that  I  could  and  began  almost  to  like  the  fellow.  * 

In  this  posture  I  dozed  through  the  afternoon.  In 
dreams  I  heard  Dalmahoy  and  Sheepshanks  lifting  their 
voices  in  amoebsean  song,  and  became  languidly  aware 
that  they  were  growing  uproarious.  I  heard  Byfield  ex- 
postulating, apjDarently  in  vain  ;  for  I  awoke  next  to  find 
that  Sheepshanks  had  stumbled  over  me  while  illustrating, 
with  an  empty  bottle,  the  motions  of  tossing  the  caber. 
"  Old  Hieland  sports/'  explained  Dalmahoy,  wiping  tears 
of  vain  laughter  :  ^'  his  mother's  uncle  was  out  in  the 
Forty-five.  Sorry  to  wake  you,  Ducie  :  below,  my  babe  ! '' 
It  did  not  occur  to  me  to  smoke  danger  in  this  tomfoolery. 
I  turned  over  and  dozed  again. 

It  seemed  but  a  minute  later  that  a  buzzing  in  my  ears 
awoke  me  ;  with  a  stab  of  pain  as  though  my  temples  were 
being  split  with  a  wedge.  On  the  instant  I  heard  my 
name  cried  aloud,  and  sat  up  ;  to  find  myself  blinking  in  a 
broad  flood  of  moonlight  over  against  the  agitated  face  of 
Dalmahoy. 

-Byfield "I  began. 

Dalmahoy  pointed.  The  aeronaut  lay  at  my  feet,  col- 
lapsed like  some  monstrous  marionette,  with  legs  and  arms 
a-splay.  Across  his  legs,  with  head  projiped  ugainst  a 
locker,  reclined  Sheepshanks,  and  gazed  upwards  with  an 
approving  smile.  "  Awkward  business,"  explained  Dal- 
mahoy, between  gasps.  ''Sheepshanks  unmanageable; 
can't  carry  his  liquor  like  a  gentleman  :  tlionght  it  funny 
both  of  us  pitch  out  ballast.  Byfield  lost  his  temper, 
worst  thing  in  the  world.  One  thing  I  pride  myself,  'men- 
able  to  reason.     No  holding  Sheepshanks  ;  Byfield  got  him 


383 

down  ;  too  late  :  faint.  Slieepslianks  wants  ring  for  ^shist- 
ance  :  pulls  string  :  breaks.  When  the  string  breaks  Lu- 
nardi  won^t  fall — tha's  the  devil  of  it." 

"  With  my  tol-de-rol,"  Mr.  Sheepshanks  murmured. 
'^Pretty — very  pretty." 

I  cast  a  look  aloft.  The  Lunardi  was  transformed  :  every 
inch  of  it  frosted  as  with  silver.  All  the  ropes  and  cords 
ran  with  silver  too,  or  liquid  mercury.  And  in  the  midst 
of  this  sparkling  cage,  a  little  below  the  hoop,  and  five  feet 
at  least  above  reach,  dangled  the  broken  valve-string. 

'^'•' Well,"  I  said,  ''you  have  made  a  handsome  mess  of  it. 
Pass  me  the  broken  end,  and  be  good  enough  not  to  lose 
your  head." 

*'I  wish  I  could,"  he  groaned,  pressing  it  between  his 
palms.  ''  My  dear  sir,  I'm  not  frightened,  if  that  is  your 
meaning." 

I  was,  and  horribly.  But  the  thing  had  to  be  done.  The 
reader  will  perhaps  forgive  me  for  touching  shyly  on  the 
next  two  or  three  minutes,  which  still  recur  on  the  smallest 
jirovocation  and  play  bogey  with  my  dreams.  To  balance 
on  the  edge  of  night,  quaking,  gripping  a  frozen  rope  ;  to 
climb  and  feel  the  pit  of  one's  stomach  slipping  like  a 
bucket  in  a  fathomless  well — I  suppose  the  intolerable 
pains  in  my  head  spurred  me  to  the  attempt — these  and  the 
urgent  shortness  of  my  breathing — much  as  a  toothache 
will  drive  a  man  up  to  the  dentist's  chair.  I  knotted  the 
broken  ends  of  the  valve-string  and  slid  back  into  the  car: 
then  tugged  the  valve  open,  while  with  my  disengaged  arm 
I  wiped  the  sweat  from  my  forehead.  It  froze  upon  the 
coat-cuff. 

In  a  minute  or  so  the  drumming  in  my  ears  grew  less 
violent.  Dalmahoy  bent  over  the  aeronaut,  who  was  bleed- 
ing at  the  nose,  and  now  began  to  breathe  stertorously. 
Sheepshanks  had  fallen  into  placid  slumber.     I  kept  the 


r^84  ST.    IVES 

valve  open  until  we  descended  into  a  stratum  of  fog — 
from  which,  no  doubt,  the  Lunar di  had  lately  risen  :  the 
moisture  collected  here  would  account  for  its  congelated 
coat  of  silver.  By-and-bye,  still  without  rising,  we  were 
quit  of  the  fog,  and  the  moon  swept  the  hollow  beneath  us, 
rescuing  solitary  scraps  and  sheets  of  water  and  letting 
them  slip  again  like  imprehensible  ghosts.  Small  fiery 
eyes  opened  and  shut  on  us  :  cressets  of  flame  on  factory 
chimneys,  more  and  more  frequent.  I  studied  the  com- 
pass. Our  course  lay  south  by  west.  But  our  where- 
abouts ?  Dalmahoy,  being  appealed  to,  suggested  Glasgow  : 
and  thenceforward  I  let  him  alone.     Byfield  snored  on. 

I  pulled  out  my  watch,  which  I  had  forgotten  to  wind  ; 
and  found  it  run  down.  The  hands  stood  at  twenty  min- 
utes past  four.  Daylight,  then,  could  not  be  far  olf. 
Eighteen  hours — say  twenty  :  and  Byfield  had  guessed  our 
rate  at  one  time  to  be  thirty  miles  an  hour.  Five  hundred 
miles — 

A  line  of  silver  ahead  :  a  ribbon  drawn  taut  across  the 
night,  clean-edged,  broadening — the  sea  !  In  a  minute  or 
two  I  caught  the  murmur  of  the  coast.  ''  Five  hundred 
miles,''  I  began  to  reckon  again,  and  a  holy  calm  dawned 
on  me  as  the  Lunardi  swept  high  over  the  fringing  surf, 
and  its  voice  faded  back  with  the  glimmer  of  a  white-washed 
fisliing  haven. 

I  roused  Dalmahoy  and  pointed,     "  The  sea  ! " 

^'  Looks  like  it.     Which,  I  wonder  ?" 

"  The  English  Channel,  man," 

"  I  say^are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Eh  ? ''  exclaimed  Byfield,  waking  up  and  coming  for- 
ward with  a  stagger. 

''The  English  Channel.'' 

*'  The  French  fiddlestick/'  said  he  with  equal  prompt- 
ness, 


385 

''  0,  have  it  as  you  please  !  "  I  retorted.     It  was  not  worth 
arguing  with  the  man. 
^^AVhat  is  the  hour?'' 

I  told  him  that  my  watch  had  run  down.  His  had  done 
the  same.  Dalrnahoy  did  not  carry  one.  We  searched  the 
still  prostrate  Shee23shanks  :  his  had  stopped  at  ten  min- 
utes to  four.  Byfield  replaced  it  and  underlined  his  dis- 
gust with  a  kick. 

''A.  nice  lot/'  he  ejaculated.  ^'  I  owe  you  my  thanks, 
Mr.  Ducie,  all  the  same.  It  was  touch  and  go  Avith  us^  and 
my  head's  none  the  better  for  it." 

"  But  I  say/'  expostulated  Dalmahoy.  "  France  I  This 
is  getting  past  a  joke." 

'^So  you  are  really  beginning  to  discover  that,  are 
you?" 

Byfield  stood,  holding  by  a  rope,  and  studied  the  dark- 
ness  ahead.     Beside  him  I  hugged  my  conviction — liour 
after  hour,  it  seemed  :  and  still  the  dawn  did  not  come. 
He  turned  at  length. 

''I  see  a  coast  line  to  the  south  of  us.  This  will  be  the 
Bristol  Channel,  and  the  balloon  is  sinkiug.  Pitch  out 
some  ballast,  if  these  idiots  have  left  any." 

I  found  a  couple  of  sandbags  and  emptied  them  over- 
board. The  coast,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  was  close  at  hand. 
But  the  Lunardi  rose  in  time  to  clear  the  clilf  barrier 
by  some  hundreds  of  feet.  A  wild  sea  ran  on  it  :  of  its 
surf,  as  of  a  grey  and  agonising  face,  we  caught  one  glimpse 
as  we  hurled  high  and  clear  over  the  roar :  and,  a  minute 
later,  to  our  infinite  dismay  were  actually  skimming  the 
surface  of  a  black  hillside.  "  Hold  on  !  "  screamed  By- 
field,  and  I  had  barely  time  to  tighten  my  grip  when— crash  I 
the  car  struck  the  turf  and  pitched  us  together  in  a  heap 
on  the  floor.  Bump  !  the  next  blow  shook  us  like  peas  in 
^  bladder.  I  drew  my  legs  up  and  waited  for  the  third. 
35 


386  ST.  IVES 

Noue  came.  The  car  gyrated  madly  and  swung  slowly 
back  to  equilibrium.  We  picked  ourselves  up,  tossed  rugs, 
coats,  instruments,  promiscuously  overboard,  and  mounted 
again.  The  chine  of  the  tall  hill,  our  stumbling-block,  fell 
back  and  was  lost,  and  we  swept  forward  into  formless 
shadow. 

"  Confound  it  l^'  said  Byfield,  ''  the  land  can't  be  unin- 
habited ! " 

It  was,  for  aught  we  could  see.  Not  a  light  showed  any- 
where ;  and  to  make  things  worse  the  moon  had  abandoned 
us.  For  one  good  hour  we  swept  through  chaos  to  the 
tuneless  lamentations  of  Sheepshanks,  who  declared  that 
his  collar-bone  was  broken. 

Then  Dalmahoy  flung  a  hand  upwards.  Night  lay  like 
a  sack  around  and  below  us  :  but  right  aloft,  at  the  zenith, 
day  was  trembling.  Slowly  established,  it  spread  and  de- 
scended upon  us  until  it  touched  a  distant  verge  of  hills, 
and  these,  cut  by  the  rim  of  the  rising  sun,  flowed  sud- 
denly with  streams  of  crimson. 

"  Over  with  the  grapnel  ! ''  Byfield  sprang  to  the  valve- 
string  and  pulled  ;  and  the  featureless  earth  rushed  up 
towards  us. 

The  sunlight  through  which  we  were  falling  had  not 
touched  it  yet.  It  leaped  on  us,  drenched  in  shadow,  like 
some  incalculable  beast  from  its  covert  :  a  land  shaggy  with 
woods  and  coppices.  Between  the  woods  a  desolate  river 
glimmered.  A  colony  of  herons  rose  from  the  tree-tops 
beneath  us  and  flew  squawking  for  the  farther  shore. 

''This  won't  do,"  said  Byfield,  and  shut  the  escape.  "  We 
must  win  clear  of  these  woods.  Hullo  !  "'  Ahead  of  us  the 
river  widened  abruptly  into  a  shining  estuary,  populous 
with  anchored  shipping.  Tall  hills  flanked  it,  and  in  the 
curve  of  the  westernmost  hill  a  grey  town  rose  from  the 
waterside  :  its  terraces  climbing  tier  upon  tier,  like  seats 


*^THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS"      387 

in  an  amphitheatre ;  its  chimneys  lifting  their  smoke  over 
against  the  dawn.  The  tiers  curved  away  sou tli ward  to  a 
round  castle  and  a  spit  of  rock,  off  which  a  brig  under  white 
canvas  stood  out  for  the  line  of  the  open  sea. 

We  swept  across  the  roadstead  towards  the  town,  trailiixr 
our  grapnel  as  it  were  a  hooked  fish,  a  bare  hundred  feet 
above  the  water.  Faces  stared  up  at  us  from  the  ships' 
decks.  The  crew  of  one  lowered  a  boat  to  pursue  ;  we  were 
half  a  mile  away  before  it  touched  the  water.  Should  we 
clear  the  town  ?  At  Byfield's  orders  we  stripped  off  our 
overcoats  and  stood  ready  to  lighten  ship  :  but  seeing  that 
the  deflected  wind  in  the  estuary  was  carrying  us  towards 
the  suburbs  and  the  harbour's  mouth,  he  changed  his 
mind. 

^'It  is  devil  or  deep  sea,"  he  announced.  "  We  will  try 
the  grapnel.  Look  to  it,  Ducie,  while  I  take  the  valve." 
He  pressed  a  clasp-knife  into  my  hand.  "  Cut,  if  I  give  the 
word." 

We  descended  a  few  feet.  We  were  skimming  the  ridge. 
The  grapnel  touched,  and  in  the  time  it  takes  you  to  wink, 
had  ploughed  through  a  kitchen  garden,  uprooting  a  regi- 
ment of  currant  bushes  ;  had  leaped  clear,  and  was  caught 
in  the  eaves  of  a  wooden  outhouse,  fetching  us  up  with  a 
dislocating  shock.  I  heard  a  rending  noise  and  picked 
myself  up  in  time  to  see  the  building  colla])se  like  a  house 
of  cards  and  a  pair  of  demented  pigs  emerge  from  the  ruins 
and  plunge  across  the  garden  beds.  And  with  that  I  was 
pitched  olf  my  feet  again  as  the  hook  caught  in  an  iron 
chevaux-de-frise,  and  held  fast. 

^'  Hold  tight !  "  shouted  By  field,  as  the  car  lurched  and 
struggled,  careening  desperately.  "  Don't  cut,  man  ! 
What  the  devil !  " 

Our  rope  had  tautened  over  the  coping  of  a  high  stone 
wall  ;  and  the  straining  lAinardi — a  very  large  and  hand' 


388  ST.  iVKS 

some  blossom,  bending  on  a  very  thin  stalk — overhung  the 
gravelled  yard  ;  and  lo  !  from  the  centre  of  it  stared  np  at 
us,  rigid  with  amazement,  the  faces  of  a  squad  of  British 
red-coats  ! 

I  believe  that  the  first  glimpse  of  that  abhorred  uni- 
form brought  my  knife  down  upon  the  rope.  In  two 
seconds  I  had  slashed  through  the  strands,  and  the  flaccid 
machine  lifted  and  bore  us  from  their  ken.  But  I  see 
their  faces  yet,  as  in  basso  relievo :  round-eyed,  open- 
mouthed  ;  honest  country  faces,  and  boyish,  every  one  ; 
an  awkward  squad  of  recruits  at  drill,  fronting  a  red- 
headed sergeant ;  the  sergeant,  with  cane  held  horizontally 
across  and  behind  his  thighs,  his  face  upturned  with  the 
rest,  and  "  Irishman  "  on  every  feature  of  it.  And  so  the 
vision  fleeted,  and  Byfield's  language  claimed  attention. 
The  man  took  the  whole  vocabulary  of  British  profanity 
at  a  rush,  and  swore  himself  to  a  standstill.  As  he  j^aused 
for  a  second  wind  I  struck  in  : 

"  Mr.  Byfield,  you  open  the  wrong  valve.  "We  drift,  as 
you  say,  towards — nay,  over,  the  open  sea.  As  master  of 
this  balloon  I  suggest  that  we  descend  within  reasonable 
distance  of  the  brig  yonder  ;  which,  as  I  make  out  is  back- 
ing her  sails  ;  which,  again,  can  only  mean  that  she  ob- 
serves us  and  is  preparing  to  lower  a  boat."" 

lie  saw  the  sense  of  this,  and  turned  to  business,  though 
with  a  snarl.  As  a  gull  from  the  cliff,  the  Lunar dl 
slanted  downwards,  and  passing  the  brig  by  less  than  a 
cable's  length  to  leeward,  soused  into  the  sea. 

I  say  '^  soused,"  for  I  confess  that  the  shock  belied  the 
promise  of  our  easy  descent.  The  Lunar di  floated  :  but 
it  also  drove  before  the  wind.  And  as  it  dragged  the  car 
after  it  like  a  tilted  pail,  the  four  drenched  and  blinded 
aeronauts  struggled  through  the  spray  and  gripped  the 
hoop,  the  netting — nay,  dug  their  nails  into  the  oiled  silk. 


389 

In  its  new  element  the  balloon  became  inspired  with  a 
sudden  infernal  malice.  It  sank  like  a  pillow  if  we  tried 
to  clinib  it :  it  rolled  us  over  in  the  brine  ;  it  allowed  us 
no  moment  for  a  backward  glance.  I  spied  a  small  cutter- 
rigged  craft  tacking  towards  us,  a  mile  and  more  to  leeward, 
and  wondered  if  the  captain  of  the  brig  had  left  our  rescue 
to  it.  He  liad  not.  I  heard  a  shout  behind  us  ;  a  rattle 
of  oars  as  the  bowmen  shipped  them  ;  and  a  hand  gripped 
my  collar.  So  one  by  one  we  were  plucked — uncommon 
specimens  I  —  from  the  deep;  rescued  from  what  Mr. 
Sheepshanks,  a  minute  later,  as  he  sat  down  on  a  thwart 
and  wiped  his  spectacles,  justly  termed  ''  a  predicament, 
sir,  as  disconcerting  as  any  my  experience  supplies." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 


''  But  what  be  ns  to  do  with  the  balloon,  sir  ? "  the 
coxswain  demanded. 

Had  it  been  my  affair  I  believe  I  should  have  obeyed  a 
ridiculous  impulse  and  begged  them  to  keep  it  for  their 
trouble  ;  so  weary  was  I  of  the  machine.  Byfield,  how- 
ever, directed  them  to  slit  a  seam  of  the  oiled  silk  and  cut 
away  the  car,  which  was  by  this  time  Avholly  submerged 
and  not  to  be  lifted.  At  once  the  Lunar di  collapsed  and 
became  manageable  ;  and  having  roped  it  to  a  ring-bolt 
astern,  the  crew  fell  to  their  oars. 

My  teeth  were  chattering.  These  operations  of  salvage 
had  taken  time,  and  it  took  us  a  further  unconscionable 
time  to  cover  the  distance  between  us  and  the  brig  as  she 
lay  hove-to,  her  maintopsail  aback  and  her  head-sails 
drawing. 

"  Feels  like  towing  a  whale,  sir,"  the  oarsman  behind 
me  panted. 

I  whipped  round.  The  voice — yes,  and  the  face — were 
the  voice  and  face  of  the  seaman  who  sat  and  steered  us  ; 
the  voice  English,  of  a  sort ;  the  face  of  no  pattern  that  I 
recognised  for  English.  The  fellows  were  as  like  as  two 
peas,  as  like  as  the  two  drovers,  Sim  and  Candlish,  had 
been  :  you  might  put  them  both  at  forty  ;  grizzled  men, 
pursed  about  the  eyes  with  seafaring.  And  now  that  I 
came  to  look,  the  three  rowers  forward,  though  mere  lads, 

390 


301 

repeated  their  elders'  features  and  build  ;  the  gaunt  frame, 
the  long,  serious  face,  the  swarthy  complexion  and  medi- 
tative eye — in  short,  Don  Quixote  of  la  Manclia  at  various 
stages  of  gi-owth.  Men  and  lads,  I  remarked,  wore  silver 
earrings. 

I  was  speculating  on  this  likeness  when  we  shipped  oars 
and  fell  alongside  the  brig's  ladder.  At  the  head  of  it 
my  hand  was  taken,  and  I  was  helped  on  deck  with  cere- 
mony by  a  tall  man  in  loose  blue  jacket  and  duck  trousers  : 
an  old  man,  bent  and  frail  ;  by  his  air  of  dignity  the 
master  of  the  vessel,  and  by  his  features  as  clearly  the 
patriarch  of  the  family.  He  lifted  his  cap  and  addressed 
us  with  a  fine  but  (as  I  now  recall  it)  somewhat  tired 
courtesy. 

'^'^An  awkward  adventure,  gentlemen." 

We  thanked  him  in  proper  form. 

^'  I  am  pleased  to  have  been  of  service.  The  pilot-cutter 
yonder  could  hardly  have  fetched  you  in  less  than  twenty 
minutes.  I  have  signalled  her  alongside,  and  she  will  con- 
vey you  back  to  Falmouth  ;  none  the  worse,  I  liope,  for 
your  wetting." 

^'A  convenience,"  said  I,  ''of  which  my  friends  will 
gladly  avail  themselves.  For  my  part  I  do  not  propose  to 
return." 

He  paused,  weighing  my  words  ;  obviously  puzzled,  but 
politely  anxious  to  understand.  His  eyes  were  grey  and 
honest,  even  childishly  honest,  but  dulled  about  the  rim 
of  the  iris  and  a  trifle  vacant,  as  though  the  world  with  its 
train  of  affairs  had  passed  beyond  his  active  concern.  I 
keep  my  own  eyes  about  me  when  I  travel  and  have  sur- 
prised just  such  a  look,  before  now,  behind  the  spectacles 
of  very  old  men  who  sit  by  the  roadside  and  break  stones 
for  a  living. 

"  I  fear,  sir,  that  I  do  not  take  you  precisely.'' 


392  ST.  IVES 

''Why/'  said  1,  ''if  I  may  gness,  this  is  one  of  the 
famous  Falmouth  packets?" 

"  As  to  that,  sir,  you  are  right  and  yet  wrong.  She 
was  a  packet,  and  (if  I  may  say  it)  a  famous  one."  His 
gaze  travelled  aloft,  and,  descending,  rested  on  mine  with 
a  sort  of  gentle  resignation.  "  But  the  old  pennon  is 
down,  as  you  see.  At  present  she  sails  on  a  private  advent- 
ure and  under  private  commission." 

"  A  privateer  ?  " 

"  You  may  call  it  that." 

"The  adventure  hits  my  humour  even  more  nicely. 
Accept  me.  Captain " 

"  Colenso." 

"  Accept  me.  Captain  Colenso,  for  your  passenger  ;  I 
will  not  say  comrade-in-arms — naval  warfare  being  so  far 
beyond  my  knowledge,  which  it  would,  perhaps,  be  more 
descriptive  to  call  ignorance.  But  I  can  pay."  I  thrust 
a  hand  nervously  into  my  breast  pocket,  and  blessed  Flora 
for  her  waterproof  bag. 

"  Excuse  me.  Captain,  if  I  speak  with  my  friend  here  in 
private  for  a  moment." 

I  drew  Byfield  aside.  "  Your  notes  ?  The  salt  wa- 
ter  " 

"You  see,"  said  he,  "I  am  a  martyr  to  acidity  of  the 
stomach." 

"  Man  !  do  I  invite  the  confidence  of  your  stomach  ?  " 

"  Consequently  I  never  make  an  ascension  unaccompa- 
nied by  a  small  bottle  of  Epsom  salts,  tightly  corked." 

"  And  you  threw  away  the  salts  and  substituted  the 
notes  ?    That  was  clever  of  you,  Byfield." 

I  lifted  my  voice.  "And  Mr.  Dalmahoy,  I  presume, 
returns  to  his  sorrowing  folk  ?  " 

The  extravagant  cheerfully  corrected  me.  "They  will 
not  sorrow  ;  but  T  shall  return  to  them.     Of  their  grudged 


'•CAPTAIN   COLENSO"  393 

pension  I  have  eighteen  pence  in  my  pocket.  Bnt  I  pro- 
pose to  travel  with  Sheepshanks,  and  raise  the  wind  by- 
showing  his  tricks.  He  shall  toss  the  caber  from  Land's 
End  to  Forthside,  cheered  by  the  plaudits  of  the  interven- 
ing taverns  and  furthered  by  their  bounty. '^ 

'^'^  A  progress  which  we  must  try  to  expedite,  if  only  out 
of  regard  for  Mrs.  Sheepshanks.^'  I  turned  to  Captain 
Colenso  again.  ''  Well,  sir,  will  you  accept  me  for  your 
passenger  2" 

^'1  doubt  that  you  are  joking,  sir.^' 

''  And  I  swear  to  you  that  I  am  not." 

He  hesitated  ;  tottered  to  the  companion,  and  called 
down,  '^  Susannah  !  Susannah  !  a  moment  on  deck,  if  you 
please.  One  of  these  gentlemen  wishes  to  ship  as  passen- 
ger." 

A  dark-browed  woman  of  middle  age  thrust  her  head 
above  the  ladder  and  eyed  me.  Even  so  might  a  ruminat- 
ing cow  gaze  over  her  hedge  upon  some  posting  wayfarer. 

^MVhat's  lie  dressed  in  ?"  she  demanded  abruptly. 

"Madam,  it  was  intended  for  a  ball  suit." 

'^  You  will  do  no  dancing  here,  young  man." 

^' My  dear  lady,  I  accept  tiiat  and  every  condition  you 
may  impose.     Whatever  the  discipline  of  the  ship " 

She  cut  me  short. 

'^  Have  you  told  him,  father  ?" 

« Why,  no.  You  see,  sir,  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  this 
is  not  an  ordinary  voyage." 

^'  Nor  for  that  matter  is  mine." 

"You  will  be  exposed  to  risks." 

"In  a  privateer  that  goes  without  saying." 

"  The  risk  of  capture." 

"  Naturally  ;  though  a  brave  captain  will  not  dwell  on 
it."     And  I  bowed. 

"  But  I  do  dwell  on  it,"  he  answered  earnestly,  a  red 


394  ^T.  IVES 

spot  showing  on  either  cheek.  "  I  must  tell  you,  sir,  that 
we  are  very  likely  indeed  to  fall  into  an  enemy's  hands/' 

*'Say  certain/'  chimed  in  Susannah. 

"  Yes,  I  will  say  we  are  certain.  I  cannot  in  conscience 
do  less."    He  sought  his  daughter's  eyes.     She  nodded. 

"0,  damn  your  conscience!"  thought  I,  my  stomach 
rising  in  contempt  for  this  noble-looking,  but  extremely 
faint-hearted,  privateersman.  ^'  Come,"  I  said,  rallying 
him,  "we  fall  in  with  a  Frenchman,  or — let  us  suppose — 
an  American  ;  that  is  our  object,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  an  American.     That  is  our  object,  to  be 


sure 


T" 


"  Then  I  warrant  we  give  a  good  account  of  ourselves. 
Tut,  tut,  man — an  ex-packet  captain  !  " 

I  pulled  up  in  sheer  wonder  at  the  lunacy  of  our  dispute 
and  the  side  he  was  forcing  me  to  take.  Here  was  I 
haranguing  a  grey-headed  veteran  on  his  own  quarter-deck 
and  exhorting  him  to  valour  !  In  a  flash  I  saAV  myself  be- 
fooled, tricked  into  playing  the  patronising  amateur,  com- 
placently posturing  for  the  derision  of  gods  and  men. 
And  Captain  Colenso,  who  aimed  but  to  be  rid  of  me,  was 
laughing  in  his  sleeve,  no  doubt.  In  a  minute  even 
Sheepshanks  would  catch  the  jest.  Now,  I  do  mortally 
hate  to  be  laughed  at  ;  it  may  be  disciplinary  for  most 
men,  but  it  turns  me  obstinate. 

Captain  Colenso,  at  any  rate,  dissembled  his  mirth  to 
perfection.  The  look  which  he  shifted  from  me  to  Susan- 
nah and  back  was  eloquent  of  senile  indecision. 

"  I  cannot  explain  to  you,  sir.  The  consequences— I 
might  mitigate  them  for  you— still  you  must  risk  them." 
He  broke  off  and  appealed  to  me.  I  would  rather  you  did 
not  insist,  I  would,  indeed  !  I  must  beg  you,  sir,  not  to 
press  it." 

"  But  I  do  press  it,"  I  answered,  stubborn  as  a  mule. 


395 

''  I  tell  you  that  I  am  ready  to  accept  all  risks.  But  if  you 
want  me  to  return  with  my  friends  in  the  cutter,  you  must 
summon  your  crew  to  pitch  me  down  the  ladder.  And 
there's  the  end  on't.'' 

*'  Dear,  dear  !  Tell  me  at  least,  sir,  that  you  are  an 
unmarried  man." 

^'  Up  to  now  I  have  that  misfortune.  I  aimed  a  bow  at 
Mistress  Susannah  ;  but  that  lady  had  turned  her  broad 
shoulders  and  it  missed  fire.  AVhich  reminds  me/'  I 
continued,  ^^  to  ask  for  the  favour  of  pen,  ink  and  paper. 
I  wish  to  send  a  letter  ashore  to  the  mail." 

She  invited  me  to  follow  her  ;  and  I  descended  to  the 
main  cabin,  a  spick-and-span  apartment,  where  we  sur- 
prised two  passably  good-looking  damsels  at  their  house- 
work, the  one  polishing  a  mahogany  swing-table,  the 
other  a  brass  door-handle.  They  picked  up  their  cloths, 
dropped  me  a  curtsey  apiece,  and  disappeared  at  a  word 
from  Susannah,  who  bade  me  be  seated  at  the  swing-table 
and  set  writing  materials  before  me.  The  room  was  lit 
by  a  broad  stern  window,  and  lined  along  two  of  its  sides 
with  mahogany  doors  leading,  as  I  supposed,  to  sleeping 
cabins  ;  the  panels — not  to  speak  of  the  brass  handles  and 
finger-plates — shining  so  that  a  man  might  have  seen  his 
face  in  them  to  shave  by.  ''But  why  all  these  women  on 
board  a  privateer  ? "  thought  I,  as  I  tried  a  quill  on  my 
thumb-nail  and  embarked  upon  my  first  love-letter. 

*'  Dearest  : 

"  This  line  with  my  devotion  to  tell  you  that  the  balloon  has  descended 
safely,  and  your  Anne  finds  himself  on  board " 

''  By  the  way.  Miss  Susannah,  what  is  the  name  of  this 
ship  ?  " 

''  She  is  called  the  Lady  Nepean;  and  I  am  a  married 
woman  and  the  mother  of  six." 


396  ST.    IVES 

''  I  felicitate  you,  madam."  I  bowed,  and  resumed  my 
writing  : 

u the  LadyNepean  packet,  outward  bound  from  Falmouth  to " 

'' Excuse  me,  but  where  the  dickens  are  we  bound  for  ?" 

*'  For  the  coast  of  Massachusetts,  I  believe." 

''  You  believe  ?  " 

She  nodded.  ''  Young  man,  if  you'll  take  my  advice, 
you'll  go  back." 

^^  Madam,"  I  answered,  on  a  sudden  impulse,  "  I  am  an 
escaped  French  prisoner."  And  with  that,  having  tossed 
my  cap  over  the  mills  (as  they  say)  I  leaned  back  in  the 
settee,  and  we  regarded  each  other.  "  —  Escaped  ! "  I 
continued,  still  with  my  eyes  on  hers,  "  with  a  trifle  of 
money,  but  minus  my  heart.  I  write  this  to  the  fair 
daughter  of  Britain  who  has  it  in  her  keeping.  And  now 
what  have  you  to  say  ?" 

''  Ah,  well !  "  she  mused,  ''  the  Lord's  ways  be  past  find- 
ing out.     It  may  be  the  easier  for  you  ! " 

Apparently  it  was  the  habit  of  this  ship's  company  to 
speak  in  enigmas.     I  caught  up  my  pen  again  : 

*'  .  .  .  the  coast  of  Massachusetts,  in  the  United  States  of 
America,  whence  I  hope  to  make  my  way  in  good  time  to  France. 
Though  you  have  news,  dearest,  I  fear  none  can  reach  me  for  a 
while.  Yet  and  though  you  have  no  more  to  write  than  '  I  love  you, 
Anne,'  write  it  and  commit  it  to  Mr.  Robbie,  who  will  forward  it  to 
Mr.  Romaine,  who  in  turn  may  find  a  means  to  get  it  smuggled  through 
to  Paris,  Rue  du  Fouarre  16.  It  should  be  consigned  to  the  Widow 
Jupille,  to  be  called  for  by  the  corporal  who  praised  her  '  vin  blanc* 
She  will  remember  ;  and  in  truth  a  man  who  had  the  courage  to  praise 
it  deserves  remembrance  as  singular  among  the  levies  of  France. 
Should  a  youth  of  the  name  of  Rowley  present  himself  before  you, 
you  may  trust  his  fidelity  absolutely,  his  sagacity  not  at  all.  And  so 
(since  the  boat  waits  to  take  this)  I  kiss  the  name  of  Flora,  and  sub- 
scribe myself —until  I  come  to  claim  her,  and  afterw9,rda  to  eternity — 
her  prisoner.  Ann-b.  " 


'^  CAPTAIN   COLENSO"  397 

I  liad,  in  fact,  a  second  reason  for  abbreviating  this  letter 
and  sealing  it  in  a  hurry.  The  movements  of  the  brig, 
though  slight,  were  perceptible,  and  in  the  close  air  of  the 
main  cabin  my  head  already  began  to  swim.  I  hastened 
on  deck  in  time  to  shake  hands  with  my  companions  and 
confide  the  letter  to  Byfield  with  instructions  for  posting 
it.  '^  And  if  your  share  in  our  adventures  should  come 
into  public  question,^'  said  I,  ^^you  must  apply  to  a 
Major  Chevenix,  now  quartered  in  Edinburgh  Castle,  who 
has  a  fair  inkling  of  the  facts,  and  as  a  man  of  honour 
will  not  decline  to  assist  you.  You  have  Dalmahoy,  too, 
to  back  your  assertion  that  you  knew  me  only  as  ^Ir. 
Ducie.^^  Upon  Dalmahoy  I  pressed  a  note  for  his  and 
Mr.  Sheepshanks'  travelling  expenses.  ^'  My  dear  fel- 
low,''  he  protested,  '^'I  couldn't  dream — if  you  are  sure 
it  won't  inconvenience  .  .  .  merely  as  a  loan  .  .  . 
and  deuced  handsome  of  you,  I  will  say.''  He  kept  the 
cutter  waiting  while  he  drew  up  an  I.  0.  U.  in  which  I 
figured  as  Bursar  and  Almoner  {honoris  causa)  to  the 
Senatus  Academicus  of  Cramond-on-Almond.  Mr.  Sheep- 
shanks meanwhile  shook  hand  Avith  me  impressively.  "  It 
has  been  a  memorable  experience,  sir.  I  shall  liave  much 
to  tell  my  wife  on  my  return." 

It  occurred  to  me  as  probable  that  the  lady  would 
have  even  more  to  say  to  him.  He  stepped  into  the  cut- 
ter and,  as  they  pushed  off,  was  hilariously  bonneted  by 
Mr.  Dalmahoy,  by  way  of  parting  salute.  ''Starboard 
after  braces  ! "  Captain  Colenso  called  to  his  crew.  The 
yards  were  trimmed  and  the  Lady  Nepean  slowly  gath- 
ered way,  while  I  stood  by  the  bulwarks  gazing  after  my 
friends  and  attempting  to  persuade  myself  that  the  fresh 
air  was  doing  me  good. 

Captain  Colenso  perceived  my  uneasiness  and  advised 
me  to  seek  my  berth  and  lie  down  ;  and  on  my  replying 


398  ST.   IVES 

with  haggard  defiance^  took  my  arm  gently,  as  if  I  had 
been  a  wilful  child,  and  led  me  below.  I  passed  beyond 
one  of  the  mahogany  doors  leading  from  the  main  cabin  ; 
and  in  that  seclusion  I  ask  you  to  leave  me  face  to  face 
with  the  next  forty-eight  hours.     It  was  a  dreadful  time. 

Nor  at  the  end  of  it  did  gaiety  wait  on  a  partially  re- 
covered appetite.  The  ladies  of  the  ship  nursed  me, 
tickled  my  palate  wdth  the  lightest  of  sea  diet.  The  men 
strowed  seats  for  me  on  deck  and  touched  their  caps  with 
respectful  sympathy.  One  and  all  were  indefatigably 
kind,  but  taciturn  to  a  degree  beyond  belief.  A  fog  of 
mystery  hung  and  deepened  about  them  and  the  Lady 
Nepean,  and  1  crept  about  the  deck  in  a  continuous  evil 
dream,  entangling  myself  in  impossible  theories.  To  be- 
gin with,  there  "were  eight  women  on  board  :  a  number  not 
to  be  reconciled  with  serious  privateering  ;  all  daughters 
or  sons'  wives  or  granddaughters  of  Captain  Colenso.  Of 
the  men — twenty-three  in  all— those  who  were  not  called 
Colenso  were  called  Pengelly  ;  the  most  of  them  convicted 
landsmen  by  their  bilious  countenances  and  unhandy  move- 
ments ;  men  fresh  from  the  plough-tail,  by  their  gait,  yet 
with  no  ruddy  impress  of  field-work  and  the  open  air. 

Twice  every  day,  and  thrice  on  Sundays,  this  extraor- 
dinary company  gathered  bare-headed  to  the  poop  for  a 
religious  service  which  it  would  be  colourless  to  call  fran- 
tic. It  began  decorously  enough  with  a  quavering  exposi- 
tion of  some  portion  of  Holy  Writ  by  Captain  Colenso. 
But  by-and-bye  (and  especially  at  the  evening  office)  his 
listeners  kindled  and  opened  on  him  with  a  skirmishing 
fire  of  '^Aniens."  Then,  worked  by  degrees  to  an  ecstasy, 
they  broke  into  cries  of  thanksgiving  and  mutual  encour- 
agement ;  they  jostled  for  the  rostrum  (a  long  nine- 
pounder  swivel) ;  and  then  speaker  after  speaker  declaimed 
his  souFs  experiences  until  his  voice  cracked,  while  the 


"captain  colenso"  399 

others  sobbed,  exhorted,  even  leaped  in  the  air.  '*  Stronger, 
brother  !  !  !  'Tis  working,  'tis  working  !  !  !  0  deliv- 
erance ! !  !  0  streams  of  redemption  !  "  For  ten  minutes 
or  a  quarter  of  an  hour  maybe,  the  ship  was  a  Babel,  a 
Bedlam.  And  then  the  tumult  would  die  down  as  sud- 
denly as  it  had  arisen,  and,  dismissed  by  the  old  man,  tlie 
crew,  with  faces  once  more  inscrutable  but  twitching  with 
spent  emotion,  scattered  to  their  usual  tasks. 

Five  minutes  after  these  singular  outbreaks  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  believe  in  them.  Captain  Colenso  paced  the  quar- 
ter-deck once  more  with  his  customary  shuffle,  his  hands 
beneath  his  coat-tails,  his  eyes  conning  the  ship  with  their 
usual  air  of  mild  abstraction.  Now  and  again  he  paused 
to  instruct  one  of  his  incapables  in  the  trimming  of  a  brace, 
or  to  correct  the  tie  of  a  knot.  He  never  scolded  ;  seldom 
lifted  his  voice.  By  his  manner  of  speech  and  the  ease  of 
his  authority  he  and  his  family  might  have  belonged  to 
separate  ranks  of  life.  Yet  I  seemed  to  detect  method  in 
their  obedience.  The  veriest  fumbler  went  about  his  work 
with  a  concentrated  gravity  of  bearing  as  if  he  fulfilled 
a  remoter  purpose,  and  understood  it  while  he  tied  his 
knots  into  ''grannies"  and  generally  mismanaged  the  job 
in  hand. 

Towards  the  middle  of  our  second  week,  we  fell  in  with 
a  storm — a  rotatory  affair,  and  soon  over  by  reason  that  we 
struck  the  outer  fringe  of  it— but  to  a  landsman  sufficiently 
daunting  while  it  lasted.  Late  in  the  afternoon  I  thrust 
my  head  up  for  a  look  around.  We  were  weltering  along 
in  horrible  forty-foot  seas,  over  which  our  bulwarks  tilted 
at  times  until  from  the  companion  hatchway,  I  stared 
plumb  into  the  grey  sliding  chasms,  and  felt  like  a  fly 
on  the  wall.  The  Lady  Nepean  hurled  her  old  timbers 
along  under  close-reefed  maintopsail  and  a  rag  of  a  fore- 
sail only.     The  captain  had  housed  top-gallant  masts  and 


400  ST.   IVES 

lashed  his  guns  inboard  ;  yet  she  rolled  so  that  you  would 
not  have  trusted  a  cat  on  her  storm-washed  decks.  They 
were  desolate  but  for  the  captain  and  helmsman  on  the 
poop  :  the  helmsman,  a  mere  lad — the  one,  in  fact,  who 
had  pulled  the  bow-oar  to  our  rescue — lashed  and  gripping 
the  spokes  pluckily,  but  with  a  white  face  which  told  that, 
though  his  eyes  were  strained  on  the  binnacle,  his  mind 
ran  on  the  infernal  seas  astern.  Over  him,  in  sea-boots 
and  oilskins,  towered  Captain  Colenso — rejuvenated,  trans- 
figured ;  his  body  swaying  easily  to  every  lurch  and  plunge 
of  the  brig,  his  face  entirely  composed  and  cheerful,  his 
saltrimmed  eyes  contracted  a  little,  but  alert  and  even  boy- 
ishly bright.     An  heroical  figure  of  a  man  ! 

My  heart  warmed  to  Captain  Colenso  ;  and  next  morn- 
ing, as  we  bowled  forward  again  with  a  temperate  breeze 
on  our  beam,  I  took  occasion  to  compliment  him  on  the 
Lady  Nepean's  behaviour. 

''  Ay,"  said  he,  abstractedly  ;  ''  the  old  girl  made  pretty 
good  weather  of  it  ! " 

^'  I  suppose  we  were  never  in  what  you  would  call  real 
danger  V 

He  faced  me  with  sudden  earnestness.  *^' Mr.  Ducie,  I 
have  served  the  Lord  all  my  days  and  He  will  not  sink  the 
ship  that  carries  my  honour."  Giving  me  no  time  to  puzzle 
over  this,  he  changed  his  tone.  ^'  You^ll  scarcely  believe 
it,  but  in  her  young  days  she  had  a  very  fair  turn  of  speed.'' 

"  Her  business  surely  demands  it  still,"  said  I.  Only  an 
arrant  landsman  could  have  reconciled  the  lumbering  old 
craft  with  any  idea  of  privateering  ;  but  this  was  my  only 
theory,  and  I  clung  to  it. 

''  We  shall  not  need  to  test  her." 

"  You  rely  on  your  guns  then  ?  "  I  had  observed  the 
care  lavished  on  these.  They  were  of  brass,  and  shone 
like  the  door-plates  in  the  main  cabin. 


401 

^'Why  as  to  that/'  he  answered  evasively,  '^Fve  had  to 
before  now.  The  last  voyage  I  commanded  her — it  was 
just  after  the  war  broke  out  with  America — we  fell  in  with 
a  schooner  off  the  Banks  ;  we  were  outward  bound  for  Hal- 
ifax. She  carried  twelve  nine-pounder  carronades  and 
two  long  nines,  besides  a  big  fellow  on  a  traverse  ;  and  we 
had  the  guns  you  see — eight  nine-pounders  and  one  chaser 
of  the  same  calibre — post-office  guns,  we  call  them.  But 
we  beat  her  off  after  two  hours  of  it."" 

^'^  And  saved  the  mails  V 

He  rose  abruptly  (we  had  seated  ourselves  on  a  couple  of 
hen-coops  under  the  break  of  the  poop).  ''You  will  ex- 
cuse me.  I  have  an  order  to  give  "  ;  and  he  hurried  up 
the  steps  to  the  quarter-deck. 

It  must  have  been  ten  days  after  this  that  he  stopped 
me  in  one  of  my  eternal  listless  promenades  and  invited 
me  to  sit  beside  him  again. 

"  I  wish  to  take  your  opinion,  Mr.  Ducie.  You  have 
not,  I  believe,  found  salvation  ?  You  are  not  one  of  us, 
as  I  may  say  ?  " 

"  Meaning  by  ^  us  ^  ?  '^ 

"  I  and  mine,  sir,  are  unworthy  followers  of  the  Word 
as  preached  by  John  Wesley." 

*MVhy  no,  that  is  not  my  religion.'' 

"  But  you  are  a  gentleman  ?"  I  bowed.  ''  And  on  a 
point  of  honour — do  you  think,  sir,  that  as  a  servant  of  the 
King  one  should  obey  his  earthly  master  even  to  doing 
what  conscience  forbids  ?  " 

"  That  might  depend " 

''  But  on  a  point  of  honour,  sir  ?  Suppose  that  you  had 
pledged  your  private  word,  in  a  just,  nay,  a  generous  bar- 
gain, and  were  commanded  to  break  it.  Is  there  anything 
could  override  that  ?  " 

I  thought  of  my  poor  old  French  colonel  and  his  broken 


402  ST.   I  YES 

parole;  and  was  silent.     ''Can  you  not  tell  me  the  cir- 
cumstances ? ''   I  suggested,  at  length. 

lie  had  been  watching  me  eagerly.  But  he  shook  his- 
head  now,  sighed  and  drew  a  small  Bible  from  his  pocket. 
*'  1  am  not  a  gentleman,  sir,  1  laid  it  before  the  Lord  : 
but,'^  he  continued  naively,  ''1  wanted  to  learn  how  a 
gentleman  would  look  at  it.'^  He  searched  for  a  text, 
turning  the  pages  with  long,  nervous  fingers  ;  but  desisted 
with  another  sigh,  and  a  moment  later  was  summoned 
away  to  solve  some  difficulty  with  the  ship's  reckoning. 

My  respect  for  the  Captain  had  been  steadily  growing. 
He  was  so  amiable  too,  so  untiringly  courteous ;  he  bore 
his  sorrow — whatever  the  cause  might  be — with  so  gentle 
a  resignation,  that  1  caught  myself  pitying  even  while  1 
cursed  him  and  his  crew  for  their  inhuman  reticence. 

But  my  respect  vanished  pretty  quickly  next  day.  We 
were  seated  at  dinner  in  the  main  cabin,  the  captain  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  and,  as  usual,  crumbling  his  biscuit  in 
a  sort  of  waking  trance — when  Mr.  Eeuben  Colenso,  his 
eldest  son,  and  acting  mate,  put  his  solemn  face  in  at  the 
door  with  news  of  a  sail  about  four  miles  distant  on  the  lee 
bow.  I  followed  the  captain  on  deck.  The  stranger,  a 
schooner,  had  been  lying-to  when  first  described  in  the 
hazy  weather  ;  but  was  standing  now  to  intercept  us.  At 
two  miles  distance — it  being  then  about  two  o'clock — 1 
saw  that  she  hoisted  British  colours. 

''  But  that  flag  was  never  sewn  in  England,"  Captain 
Colenso  observed,  studying  her  through  his  glass.  His 
cheeks,  usually  of  that  pallid  ivory  colour  proper  to  old 
age,  were  flushed  with  a  faint  carmine,  and  1  observed  a 
suppressed  excitement  in  all  his  crew.  For  my  part,  1 
expected  no  better  than  to  play  target  in  the  coming  en- 
gagement ;  but  it  surprised  me  that  he  served  out  no  cut- 
lasses, ordered  up  no  powder  from  the  hold,  or,  in  short, 


'' CAPTAIN    COLENSO"  408 

took  no  single  step  to  clear  the  Lady  Nepean  for  ac- 
tion or  put  his  men  in  fighting  trim.  The  most  of  tliem 
were  gathered  about  the  fore-hatch  to  the  total  neglect  of 
their  guns,  wliicli  they  had  been  cleaning  assiduously  all 
the  morning.  On  we  stood  without  shifting  our  course  by 
a  point,  and  were  witliin  range  when  the  schooner  ran  up 
tlie  Stars-and-Stripes  and  plumped  a  round  shot  ahead  of 
us  by  way  of  hint. 

I  stared  at  Captain  Colenso.  Could  he  mean  to  surren- 
der without  one  blow  ?  He  had  exchanged  his  glass  for 
a  speaking-trumpet,  and  waited,  fumbling  with  it,  his  face 
twitching  painfully.  A  cold  dishonouring  suspicion  gripped 
me.  The  man  was  here  to  betray  his  flag.  I  glanced 
aloft ;  the  British  ensign  flew  at  the  peak.  And  as  I 
turned  my  head  I  felt  rather  than  saw  the  flash,  heard  the 
shattering  din  as  the  puzzled  American  luffed  up  and  let 
fly  across  our  bows  with  a  raking  broadside.  Doubtless 
she,  too,  took  note  of  our  defiant  ensign  and  leaped  at  the 
nearest  guess,  that  we  meant  to  run  her  aboard. 

Now,  whether  my  glance  awoke  Captain  Colenso,  or 
this  was  left  to  the  all  but  simultaneous  voice  of  the  guns, 
I  know  not.  But  as  their  smoke  rolled  between  us  I  saw 
him  drop  his  trumpet  and  run  with  a  crazed  face  to  the 
taffrail,  where  fhe  hallyards  led.  The  traitor  had  forgot- 
ten to  haul  down  his  flag  ! 

It  was  too  late.  While  he  fumbled  with  the  hallyards, 
a  storm  of  musketry  burst  and  swept  the  quarter-deck. 
He  flung  up  both  hands,  spun  round  upon  his  heel,  ami 
pitched  backwards  at  the  helmsman^s  feet,  and  the  loosened 
ensign  dropped  slowly  and  fell  across  him,  as  if  to  cover 
his  shame. 

Instantly  the  firing  ceased.  I  stood  there  between  com- 
passion and  disgust,  willing  yet  loathing  to  touch  the 
pitiful  corpse,  when  a  woman— Susannah— ran  screaming 


404  ST.    IVES 

by  me  and  fell  on  her  knees  beside  it !  I  saw  a  trickle 
of  blood  ooze  beneath  the  scarlet  folds  of  the  flag.  It 
crawled  along  the  plank,  hesitated  at  a  seam,  and  grew 
there  to  an  oddly-shaped  pool.  I  watched  it.  In  shape  I 
thought  it  remarkably  like  the  map  of  Ireland.  And  I 
became  aware  that  some  one  was  speaking  to  me,  and 
looked  up  to  find  a  lean  and  lantern- jawed  American  come 
aboard  and  standing  at  my  shoulder. 

"Are  you  anywise  hard  of  hearing,  stranger  ?  Or  must 
I  repeat  to  you  that  this  licks  cockfighting." 

"I,  at  any  rate,  am  not  disputing  it,  sir." 

"  The  Lady  Kepean,  too  !  Is  that  the  Cap'n  yonder  ? 
I  thought  as  much.  Dead,  hey  ?  Well,  he'd  better  stay 
dead,  though  Fd  have  enjoyed  the  inside  o'  five  minutes' 
talk  just  to  find  out  what  he  did  it  for." 

"  Did  what  ?  " 

"Why,  brought  the  Lady  Nei)ean  into  these  waters, 
and  Commodore  Rodgers  no  further  away  than  Ehole  Isl- 
and, by  all  accounts.  He  must  have  had  a  nerve.  And 
what  post  might  you  be  holding  on  this  all-fired  packet  ? 
Darn  me,  but  you  have  females  enough  on  board  I "  For 
indeed  there  Avere  three  poor  creatures  kneeling  now  and 
crooning  over  the  dead  captain.  The  men  had  surrendered 
— they  had  no  arms  to  fiing  down — and  Avere  collected  in 
the  waist,  under  guard  of  a  cordon  of  Yankees.  One 
lay  senseless  on  deck  and  two  or  three  were  bleeding  from 
splinter  wounds ;  for  the  enemy,  her  freeboard  being 
lower  by  a  foot  or  two  than  the  wall  sides  of  the  Lady 
Nepean  had  done  little  execution  on  deck,  whatever  th'^ 
wounds  in  our  hull  might  be.  ^ 


"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Captain  " 

"  Seccombe,  sir,  is  my  name.     Alpheus  Q.  Seccombe,  ol 
the  Manhattan,  schooner." 

"Well,  then,  Captain  Seccombe,  I  am  a  passenger  on 


405 

board  this  ship  and  know  neither  her  business  here  nor 
wliy  she  has  behaved  in  a  fashion  that  makes  me  bhish 
for  her  flag — which,  by  the  way,  I  have  every  reason  to 
abominate." 

"  0,  come  now  !  You^re  trying  it  on.  It's  a  yard-arm 
matter  and  I  don't  blame  you,  to  be  sure.  Cap'n  sank  the 
mails?" 

"  There  were  none  to  sink,  I  believe." 

He  conned  me  curiously. 

"  You  don't  look  like  a  Britisher,  either." 

''I  trust  not.  I  am  the  Viscount  Anne  de  Keroual  de 
St.  Yves,  escaped  from  a  British  war-prison." 

''  Lucky  for  you  if  you  prove  it.  We'll  get  to  the  bot- 
tom of  this."  He  faced  about  and  called,  '•  Who's  the  first 
officer  of  this  brig  ?  " 

Reuben  Colenso  was  allowed  to  step  forward.  Blood 
from  a  scalp-wound  had  run  and  caked  on  his  right  cheek, 
but  he  stepped  squarely  enough. 

^' Bring  him  below,"  Captain  Seccombe  commanded. 
''  And  you,  Mr.  What's-your-name,  lead  the  way.  It's  one 
or  the  other  of  us  will  get  the  hang  of  this  affair." 

He  seated  himself  at  the  head  of  the  table  in  the  main 
cabin,  and  spat  ceremoniously  on  the  floor. 

^'  Now,  sir,  you  are,  or  were,  first  officer  of  this  brig  ?  " 

The  prisoner,  standing  between  his  two  guards,  gripped 
his  stocking-cap  nervously.  "  Will  you  please  to  tell  me, 
sir,  if  my  father  is  killed  ?  " 

^^Seth,  my  lad,  I  want  room."     One  of  the  guards,  a 
strapping  youngster,  stepped  and  flung  open  a  pane  of  the 
stern  window.     Captain  Seccombe  spat  out  of  it  with  non- 
chalant dexterity  before  answering  : 
''  I  guess  he  is.     Brig's  name  ?  " 
''  The  Lady  Nepean," 
^' Mail  packet?" 


406  ST.    IVES 

''  Yes,  sir — leastways '^ 


**  Now,  see  here.  Mister  First  Officer  Colenso,  junior, 
it's  a  shortish  trip  between  this  and  the  yard-arm,  and  it 
may  save  you  some  superfluous  lying  if  I  tell  you  that 
in  August  last  year,  the  Lady  Nepean,  packet.  Captain 
Colenso,  outward  bound  for  Halifax,  met  the  Hitclicock, 
privateer,  off  the  Great  Bank  of  Newfoundland,  and  beat 
her  off  after  two  hours'  fighting.  You  were  on  board  of 
her  ?  " 

"  I  tended  the  stern  gun." 

''  Very  good  !  The  next  day,  being  still  off  the  Banks, 
she  fell  in  with  Commodore  Kodgers,  of  the  United  States 
frigate  President,  and  surrendered  to  him  right  away.'' 

"  We  sank  the  mails." 

''  You  did,  my  man.  Notwithstanding  which,  that  lion- 
hearted  hero  treated  you  with  the  forbearance  of  a  true- 
born  son  of  freedom."  Captain  Seccombe's  voice  took  an 
oratorical  roll.  "  He  saw  that  you  were  bleeding  from 
your  fray.  He  fed  you  at  his  hospitable  board  ;  he  would 
not  suffer  you  to  be  denuded  of  the  least  trifle.  Nay, 
what  did  he  promise  ?— but  to  send  your  father  and  his 
crew  and  passengers  back  to  England  in  their  own  ship, 
on  their  swearing  upon  their  sacred  honour  that  she  should 
return  to  Boston  harbour  with  an  equal  number  of  Ameri- 
can prisoners  from  England.  Your  father  swore  to  that 
upon  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  severally  and  conjointly; 
and  the  Lady  Nepean  sailed  home  for  all  the  world  like 
a  lamb  from  the  wolfs  jaws,  with  a  single  American  offi- 
cer inside  of  her.  And  how  did  your  dog-damned  govern- 
ment receive  this  noble  confidence  ?  In  a  way,  sir,  that 
would  have  brought  a  blush  to  the  cheek  of  a  low-down 
attorney's  clerk.  They  repudiated.  Under  shelter  of  a 
notification  that  no  exchange  of  prisoners  on  the  high  seas 
would  count  as  valid,  this  perjured  tyrant  and  his  myrmi- 


**  CAPTAIN   COLENSO'"  407 

dons  went  back  on  their  captain's  oath,  and  kept  the  brig  ; 
and  the  American  officer  came  home  empty-handed.  Your 
father  was  told  to  resume  his  duties,  immortal  souls  being 
cheap  in  a  country  where  they  press  seamen's  bodies.  And 
now.  Mister  First  Officer  Colenso,  perhaps  you'll  explain 
how  he  had  the  impudence  to  come  within  two  hundred 
miles  of  a  coast  where  his  name  smelt  worse  than  vermin." 
"  He  was  coming  back,  sir." 
'^Hey?" 

**  Back  to  Boston,  sir.  You  see,  Cap^n,  father  wasn't  a 
rich  man,  but  he  had  saved  a  trifle.  He  didn't  go  back  to 
the  service,  though  told  that  he  might.  It  preyed  on  his 
mind.  We  was  all  very  fond  of  father,  being  all  one  fam- 
ily, as  you  might  say,  though  some  of  us  had  wives  and 
families,  and  some  were  over  to  Redruth  to  the  mines." 
"Stick  to  the  point." 

"  But  this  is  the  point,  Cap'n.  He  was  coming  back, 
yon  see.  The  Lady  Nepean  wasn't  fit  for  much  after 
the  handling  she'd  had.  She  was  going  for  twelve  hundred 
pounds.  The  Post  Office  didn't  look  for  more.  We  got 
her  for  eleven  hundred  with  the  guns,  and  the  repairs  may 
have  cost  a  hundred  and  fifty  ;  but  you'll  find  the  account 
books  in  the  cupboard  there.  Father  had  a  matter  of  five 
hundred  laid  by  and  a  little  over." 

Captain  Seccombe  removed  his  legs  from  the  cabin-table, 
tilted  his  chair  forward,  and  half  rose  in  his  seat. 
"You  houglithQvV 

"That's  what  I'm  telling  you,  sir;  tliough  father'd 
have  put  it  much  clearer.  You  see,  he  laid  it  before  the 
Lord  ;  and  then  he  laid  it  before  all  of  us.  It  preyed  on 
his  mind.  My  sister  Susannah  stood  up  and  she  said,  '  I 
reckon  I'm  the  most  respectably  married  of  all  of  you, 
having  a  farm  of  my  own ;  but  we  can  sell  up,  and  all  the 
world's  a  home  to  them  that  fears  the  Lord.     We  can't 


408  '  ST.   IVES 

stock  up  with  American  prisoners,  but  we  can  go  ourselves 
instead  ;  and,  judging  by  tlie  prisoners  Fve  a-seen  brought 
in,  Commodore  Rodgers'll  be  glad  to  take  us.  AVhat  he 
does  to  us  is  the  Lord's  affair.'  That's  what  she  said,  sir. 
Of  course  we  kept  it  quiet  ;  we  put  it  about  that  the  Lady 
Nepean  was  for  Canada,  and  the  whole  family  going  out 
for  emigrants.  This  here  gentleman  we  picked  up  outside 
Falmouth  ;  perhaps  he^^e  told  you.'' 

Captain  Seccombe  stared  at  me,  and  I  at  Captain  Sec- 
combe.     Reuben  Colenso  stood  wringing  his  cap. 

At  length  the  American  found  breath  enough  to  whistle. 
^'^I'll  have  to  put  back  to  Boston  about  this,  though  it's 
money  out  of  pocket.  This  here's  a  matter  for  Commo- 
dore Bainbridge.     Take  a  seat,  Mr.  Colenso." 

'^  I  was  going  to  ask,"  said  the  prisoner,  simply,  ^'  if  be- 
fore you  put  me  in  irons,  I  might  go  on  deck  and  look  at 
father.     It'll  be  only  a  moment,  sir." 

''  Yes,  sir,  you  may.  And  if  you  can  get  the  ladies  to 
excuse  me,  I  will  follow  in  a  few  minutes.  I  wish  to  pay 
him  my  respects.  It's  my  opinion,"  lie  added  pensively, 
as  the  prisoner  left  the  cabin,  *^  it's  my  opinion  that  the 
man's  story  is  genu-wine." 

He  repeated  the  word,  five  minutes  later,  as  we  stood 
on  the  quarter-deck  beside  the  body.  "  A  genu-wine  man, 
sir,  unless  I  am  mistaken." 

Well,  the  question  is  one  for  casuists.  In  my  travels  I 
have  learnt  this,  that  men  are  greater  than  governments  ; 
wiser  sometimes,  honester  always.  Heaven  deliver  me 
from  any  such  problem  as  killed  this  old  packet-captain  ! 
Between  loyalty  to  his  king  and  loyalty  to  his  conscience, 
he  had  to  choose,  and  it  is  likely  enough  that  he  erred. 
But  I  believe  that  he  fought  it  out,  and  found  on  his 
country's  side  a  limit  of  shame  to  which  he  could  not 
stoop.     A  man  so  placed,  perhaps,  may  even  betray  his 


*' CAPTAIN    COLENSO"  409 

country  to  her  honour.  In  this  hoj^e  at  least  the  flag  which 
he  had  hauled  down  covered  his  body  still  as  we  commit- 
ted it  to  the  sea,  its  service  or  disservice  done. 

Two  days  later  we  anchored  in  the  great  harbour  at 
Boston,  where  Captain  Seccombe  went  w^ith  his  story  and 
his  prisoners  to  Commodore  Bainbridge,  who  kept  them, 
pending  news  of  Commodore  Rodgers.  They  were  sent,  a 
few  weeks  later,  to  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  to  be  interro- 
gated by  that  commander  ;  and,  to  the  honour  of  the  Re- 
public, were  released  on  a  liberal  2JaroJe ;  but  wdiether 
when  the  war  ended  they  returned  to  England  or  took 
oath  as  American  citizens,  1  have  not  learnt.  I  was 
luckier.  The  Commodore  allowed  Captain  Seccombe  to 
detain  me  while  the  French  consul  made  inquiry  into  my 
story ;  and  during  the  two  months  which  the  consul 
thought  fit  to  take  over  it,  I  was  a  guest  in  the  captain's 
house.  And  here,  I  made  my  bow  to  Miss  Amelia  Sec- 
combe, an  accomplished  young  lady,  "  who,"  said  her  dot- 
ing father,  '^has  acquired  a  considerable  proficiency  in 
French  and  will  be  glad  to  swop  ideas  with  you  in  that 
language."  Miss  Seccombe  and  I  did  not  hold  our  com- 
munications in  French  ;  and,  observing  his  disposition  to 
substitute  the  warmer  language  of  the  glances,  I  took  the 
bull  by  the  horns,  told  her  my  secret  and  rhapsodised  on 
Flora.  Consequently  no  Nausicaa  figures  in  this  Odyssey  of 
mine.  Nay,  the  excellent  girl  flung  herself  into  my  cause, 
and  bombarded  her  father  and  the  consular  office,  with 
such  effect  that  on  February  2,  1814,  I  waved  farewell  to 
her  from  the  deck  of  the  barque  Shaiomut,  bound  from 
Boston  to  Bordeaux. 


CHAPTEE  XXXV 

IN"   PARIS — ALAIN"   PLAYS   HIS   LAST   CARD 

On  the  lOth  of  March  at  sunset  the  SUaivmut  passed  ^ 
the  Pointe  de  Grave  fort  and  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
Gironde,  and  at  eleven  o^clock  next  morning  dropped 
anchor  a  little  below  Blaye,  under  the  guns  of  the  Regulus, 
74.  We  were  just  in  time,  a  British  fleet  being  daily  ex- 
pected there  to  co-operate  with  the  Due  d^Angouleme  and 
Count  Lynch,  who  was  then  preparing  to  pull  the  tricolor 
from  his  shoulder  and  betray  Bordeaux  to  Beresford,  or,  if 
yon  prefer  it,  to  the  Bourbon.  News  of  his  purpose  had 
already  travelled  down  to  Blaye,  and  therefore  no  sooner 
were  my  feet  once  more  on  the  soil  of  my  beloved  France, 
than  I  turned  them  towards  Libourne,  or  rather,  Fronsac, 
and  the  morning  after  my  arrival  there,  started  for  the 
capital. 

But  so  desperately  were  the  joints  of  travel  dislocated, 
(the  war  having  deplenished  the  country  alike  of  cattle  and 
able-bodied  drivers)  and  so  frequent  were  the  breakdowns 
by  the  way,  that  I  might  as  expeditiously  have  trudged 
it.  It  cost  me  fifteen  good  days  to  reach  Orleans,  and  at 
Etampes  (which  I  reached  on  the  morning  of  the  30th), 
the  driver  of  the  tottering  diligence  flatly  declined  to  pro- 
ceed. The  Cossacks  and  Prussians  were  at  the  gates  of 
Paris.  "Last  night  we  could  see  the  fires  of  their 
bivouacs.  If  Monsieur  listens  he  can  hear  the  firing. '^ 
The  Empress  had  fled  from  the  Tuileries.    Whither  ?   The 

410 


IN    PARIS — ALAIN   PLATS   HIS   LAST   CARD      411 

driver,  the  aubergiste,  the  disinterested  crowd,  shrugged 
their  shoulders.  "  To  Rambouiller,  probably."  God  knew 
what  was  happening  or  what  would  happen.  The  Em- 
peror was  at  Troyes,  or  at  Sens,  or  else  as  near  as  Fontaine- 
bleau,  nobody  knew  for  certain  which.  But  the  fugitives 
from  Paris  had  been  pouring  in  for  days,  and  not  a  cart  or 
four-footed  beast  was  to  be  hired  for  love  or  money,  though 
I  hunted  Etampes  for  hours. 

At  length,  and  at  nightfall,  I  ran  against  a  bow-kneed 
grey  mare  and  a  cabriolet  de  place,  which  by  its  label  be- 
longed to  Paris  ;  the  pair  wandering  the  street  under  what 
it  would  be  flattery  to  call  the  guidance  of  an  eminently 
drunken  driver.  I  boarded  him  ;  he  dissolved  at  once  into 
maudlin  tears  and  prolixity.  It  appeared  that  on  the  29th 
he  had  brought  over  a  bourgeois  family  from  the  capital  and 
had  spent  the  last  three  days  in  perambulating  Etampes, 
and  the  past  three  nights  in  crapulous  slumber  within  his 
vehicle.  Here  was  my  chance,  and  I  demanded  to  know  if 
for  a  price  he  would  drive  me  back  with  him  to  Paris.  He 
declared,  still  weeping,  that  he  was  fit  for  anything.  ''  For 
my  part,  I  am  ready  to  die,  and  Monsieur  knows  that  we 
shall  never  reach." 

''  Still  anything  is  better  than  Etampes." 

For  some  inscrutable  reason  this  struck  him  as  exces- 
sively comic.  He  assured  me  that  I  was  a  brave  fellow, 
and  bade  me  jump  up  at  once.  Within  five  minutes  we  were 
jolting  towards  Paris.  Our  progress  was  all  but  inappre- 
ciable, for  the  grey  mare  had  come  to  the  end  of  her 
powers,  and  her  master's  monologue  kept  pace  with  hers. 
His  anecdotes  were  all  of  the  past  three  days.  The  iron  of 
Etampes  apparently  had  entered  his  soul  and  effaced  all 
memory  of  his  antecedent  career.  Of  the  war,  of  any 
recent  public  events,  he  could  tell  me  nothing. 

I  had  half  expected— supposing  the  Emperor  to  be  near 


412  ST.   IVES 

Fontainebleaii — to  happen  on  his  vedettes,  but  we  had  the 
road  to  ourselves,  and  reached  Longjumeau  a  little  before 
daybreak  without  having  encountered  a  living  creature. 
Here  we  knocked  up  the  proprietor  of  a  cabaret,  who 
assured  us,  between  yawns,  that  we  were  going  to  our  doom ; 
and  after  baiting  the  grey  and  dosing  ourselves  with  execra- 
ble brandy,  pushed  forward  again.  As  the  sky  grew  pale 
about  us,  I  had  my  ears  alert  for  the  sound  of  artillery. 
But  Paris  kept  silence.  We  passed  Sceaux,  and  arrived 
at  length  at  Montrouge  and  the  barrier.  It  was  open — 
abandoned — not  a  sentry,  not  a  douanier  visible. 

''  Where  will  Monsieur  be  pleased  to  descend  ? "  my 
driver  enquired,  and  added  with  an  effort  of  memory,  that 
he  had  a  wife  and  two  adorable  children  on  a  top  floor  in 
the  Rue  du  ]\Iont  Parnasse,  and  stabled  his  mare  handy 
by.  I  paid,  and  watched  him  from  the  deserted  pavement 
as  he  drove  away.  A  small  child  came  running  from  a 
doorway  behind  me,  and  blundered  against  my  legs.  I 
caught  him  by  the  collar  and  demanded  what  had  happened 
to  Paris.  "  That  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  child,  ''  but 
mamma  is  dressing  herself  to  take  me  to  the  Review. 
Tenez,"  he  pointed,  and  at  the  head  of  the  long  street  I 
saw  advancing  the  front  rank  of  a  blue-coated  regiment  of 
Prussians,  marching  across  Paris  to  take  up  position  on 
the  Orleans  road. 

The  murder  was  out.  I  had  entered  Paris  from  the 
south  just  in  time,  if  I  wished,  to  witness  the  entry  of  His 
Majesty  the  Emperor  Alexandre  from  the  north.  Soon  I 
found  myself  one  of  a  crowd  converging  towards  the 
bridges,  to  scatter  northward  along  the  line  of  His  Maj- 
esty's progress,  from  the  Barriere  de  Pontin  to  the  Champs 
Elysees,  where  the  grand  review  was  to  be  held.  I  chose 
this  for  my  objective,  and  making  my  way  along  the 
Quays,  found   myself  shortly  before  ten  o'clock   in  the 


IN   PAEIS— ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS    LAST   CAKD      413 

Place  de  la  Concorde,  where  a  singular  little  scene  brought 
me  to  a  halt. 

About  a  score  of  young  men — aristocrats  by  their  dress 
and  carriage — were  gathered  about  the  centre  of  the 
square.  Each  wore  a  white  scarf  and  the  Bourl)on  cockade 
in  his  hat ;  and  their  leader,  a  weedy  youth  with  liay- 
coloured  hair,  had  drawn  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  and 
was  declaiming  its  contents  at  the  tojj  of  a  voice  by  several 
sizes  too  big  for  him  : — 

"  For  Paris  is  reserved  the  privilege,  under  circumstances 
now  existing,  to  accelerate  the  dawn  of  Universal  Peace. 
Her  suffrage  is  awaited  with  the  interest  which  so  im- 
mense a  result  naturally  inspires." 

Et  cetera.  Later  on,  I  possessed  myself  of  a  copy  of 
the  Prince  of  Schwarzenberg^s  proclamation,  and  identi- 
fied the  wooden  rhetoric  at  once. 

^'  Parisians  !  you  have  the  example  of  Bordeaux  before 
you"  .  .  .  Ay,  by  the  Lord,  they  had — right  under 
their  eyes  !  The  hay-coloured  youth  wound  up  his  read- 
ing with  a  ^^  Vive  le  roil  "  and  his  band  of  walking-gentle- 
men took  up  the  shout.  The  crowd  looked  on  impassive  ; 
one  or  two  edged  away  ;  and  a  grey-haired,  soldierly  horse- 
man (whom  I  recognised  for  the  Due  de  Choiseul  Praslin) 
passing  in  full  tenure  of  Colonel  of  the  National  Guard, 
reined  up,  and  addressed  the  young  men  in  a  few  words 
of  grave  rebuke.  Two  or  three  answered  by  snapping 
their  fingers,  and  repeating  their  "  Vive  le  roi"  witli  a 
kind  of  embarrassed  defiance.  But  their  performuuce,  be- 
fore so  chilling  an  audience,  was  falling  sadly  flat  when  a 
dozen  or  more  of  young  royalist  bloods  came  riding  up  to 
reanimate  it— among  them  M.  Louis  de  Chateaubriand, 
M.  Talleyrand's  brother,  Archambaut  de  Pcrigord,  the 
scoundrelly  Marquis  de  Maubreuil— yes,  and  my  cousin, 
the  Vicomte  de  Keroual  de  Saint  Ives. 


414  ST.   IVES 

The  indecency,  the  cynical  and  naked  impudence  of  it 
took  me  like  a  bulfet.  There,  in  a  group  of  strangers, 
my  cheek  reddened  under  it,  and  for  the  moment  I  had  a 
mind  to  run.  I  had  done  better  to  run.  By  a  chance  his 
eye  missed  mine  as  he  swaggered  past  at  a  canter,  for  all 
the  world  like  a  tenore  roiusto  on  horseback,  with  the 
rouge  on  his  face,  and  his  air  of  expansive  Olympian 
blackguardism.  He  carried  a  lace  white  handkerchief  at 
the  end  of  his  riding-switch,  and  this  was  bad  enough. 
But  as  he  wheeled  his  bay  thoroughbred,  I  saw  that  he  had 
followed  the  declasse  Maubreuirs  example  and  decorated 
the  brute's  tail  with  a  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour. 
That  brought  my  teeth  together,  and  I  stood  my  ground. 

''  Vive  le  roi!"  "  Vivent  les  Bourlons  ! "  ''A  has  le 
sabot  corse!''  Maubreuil  had  brought  a  basket  full  of 
white  brassards  and  cockades,  and  the  gallant  horseman  be- 
gan to  ride  about  and  press  them  upon  the  unresponsive 
crowd.  Alain  held  one  of  the  badges  at  arm's  length  as  he 
pushed  into  the  little  group  about  me,  and  our  eyes  met. 

"  Merci/'  said  I.  ''  Retenez-le  jiisqu'  a  ce  que  none  nous 
rencontrons — rue  Gregoire  de  Tours  !  " 

His  arm  with  the  riding-switch  and  laced  handkerchief 
went  up  as  though  he  had  been  stung.  Before  it  could 
descend,  I  darted  aside  deep  into  the  crowd  which  hustled 
around  him,  understanding  nothing,  but  none  the  less 
sullenly  hostile.  "J  has  les  cocardes  hlanches/'  cried 
one  or  two.  "  Who  was  the  cur  VI  heard  MaubreuiFs 
question  as  he  pressed  in  to  the  rescue,  and  Alain's  reply, 
"  Peste  !  A  young  relative  of  mine  who  is  in  a  hurry  to 
lose  his  head  ;  whereas  I  prefer  to  chose  the  time  for 
that." 

I  took  this  for  a  splutter  of  hatred,  and  even  found  it 
laughable  as  I  made  my  escape  good.  At  the  same  time, 
our  encounter  had  put  me  out  of  humour  for  gaping  at 


IN   PARIS — ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS   LAST   CARD       415 

tlie  review,  and  I  turned  back  and  recrossed  the  river,  to 
seek  the  Rue  du  Fouarre  and  the  Widow  Jupille. 

Now  the  Rue  du  Fouarre,  though  once  a  very  famous 
thoroughfare,  is  to-day  perhaps  as  squalid  as  any  that 
drains  its  refuse  by  a  single  gutter  into  the  Seine,  and  the 
widow  had  been  no  beauty  even  in  the  days  when  she  fol- 
lowed the  106th  of  the  line  as  vivandiere  and  before  she 
wedded  Sergeant  Jupille  of  that  regiment.  But  she  and  I 
had  struck  up  a  friendship  over  a  flesh  wound  which  I  re- 
ceived in  an  affair  of  outposts  on  the  Algweda,  and  thence- 
forward I  taught  myself  to  soften  the  edge  of  her  white 
wine  by  the  remembered  virtues  of  her  ointment,  so  that 
when  Sergeant  Jupille  was  cut  off  by  a  grape-shot  in  front 
of  Salamanca,  and  his  Philomene  retired  to  take  charge  of 
his  mother's  wine-shop  in  the  Rue  du  Fouarre,  she  had 
enrolled  my  name  high  on  the  list  of  her  prospective  pa- 
trons. I  felt  myself,  so  to  speak,  a  part  in  the  goodwill  of 
her  house,  and  Heaven  knows  thought  I,  as  I  threaded 
the  insalubrious  street,  it  is  something  for  a  soldier  of  the 
Emph'e  to  count  even  on  this  much  in  Paris  to-day.  Est 
aliquid,  qiiocunque  loco,  quocungtie  sacello. 

Madame  Jupille  knew  me  at  once,  and  we  fell  (figura- 
tively speaking)  upon  each  other's  neck.  Her  shop  was 
empty,  the  whole  quarter  had  trooped  off  to  the  review. 
After  mingling  our  tears  (again  figuratively)  over  the 
fickleness  of  the  capital,  I  enquired  if  she  had  any  letters 
for  me. 

'^Why,  no,  comrade." 

''None  ?''  I  exclaimed  with  a  very  blank  face. 

''Not  one";  Madame  Jupille  eyed  me  archly,  and  re- 
lented, "the  reason  being  that  Mademoiselle  is  too  dis- 
creet." 

"  Ah  ! "  I  heaved  a  big  sigh  of  relief.  "  You  provoking 
woman,  tell  me  what  yon  mean  by  that  ?  " 


416  ST.   IVES 

^'  Well^  now,  it  may  have  been  ten  days  ago  that  a  stranger 
called  in  and  asked  if  I  had  any  news  of  the  Corporal  who 
praised  my  white  wine.  '  Have  I  any  news/  said  I,  '  of 
a  needle  in  a  bundle  of  hay.  They  all  praise  it.^''  (0, 
Madame  Jiipille.)  "  'The  Corporal  I'm  speaking  of/  said 
he,  '  is  or  was  called  Champdivers.^  '  Was.'  I  cried, 
'  You  are  not  going  to  tell  me  that  he^'s  dead?'  and  I  de- 
clare to  you,  comrade,  the  tears  came  into  my  eyes.  '  No, 
he  is  not,'  said  the  stranger,  and  the  best  proof  is  that  he 
will  be  here  enquiring  for  letters  before  long.  You  are  to 
tell  him  that  if  he  expects  one  from ' — see,  I  took  the  name 
down  on  a  scrap  of  paper,  and  stuck  it  in  the  wine-glass 
here — '  from  Miss  Flora  Gilchrist,  he  will  do  well  to  wait 
in  Paris  until  a  friend  finds  means  to  deliver  it  by  hand. 
And  if  he  asks  more  about  me,  say  that  I  come  from ' — 
tenez!  I  wrote  the  second  name  underneath — yes,  that  is 
it — '  Mr.  Eomaine. ' " 

''  Confound  his  caution,"  said  I.  "  What  sort  of  man 
was  this  messenger  ?  " 

^'  0,  a  staid-looking  man,  dark  and  civil  spoken.  You 
might  call  him  an  upper  servant,  or  perhaps  a  notary's 
clerk  ;  very  plainly  dressed,  in  black." 

''  He  spoke  French  ?  " 

'^  Parfaitement.     What  else  ?  " 

''And  he  has  not  called  again  ?  " 

"To  be  sure,  yes,  and  the  day  before  yesterday,  and 
seemed  quite  disappointed.  '  Is  there  anything  Monsieur 
would  like  to  add  to  his  message  ? '  I  asked.  '  No,'  said 
he,  '  or  stay,  tell  him  that  all  goes  well  in  the  North,  but 
he  must  not  leave  Paris  until  I  see  him.' " 

You  may  guess  how  I  cursed  Mr.  Eomaine  for  this  beat- 
ing about  the  bush.  If  all  went  well  in  the  North,  what 
possible  excuse  of  caution  could  the  man  have  for  holding 
back  Flora's  letter  ?    And  how,  in  any  case,  could  it  com- 


IN   PARIS — ALAIN   PLAYS    HIS   LAST   CARD       417 

promise  me  here  in  Paris.  I  had  half  a  mind  to  take  tlic 
bit  in  my  teeth  and  post  off  at  once  for  Calais.  Still,  there 
was  the  plain  injunction,  and  the  lawyer  doubtless  had  a 
reason  for  it  hidden  somewhere  behind  his  tiresome  cir- 
cumambulatory  approaches.  And  his  messenger  might 
be  back  at  any  hour. 

Therefore,  though  it  went  against  the  grain,  I  thought 
it  prudent  to  take  lodgings  with  Madame  Jupille  and 
possess  my  soul  in  patience.  You  will  say  that  it  should 
not  have  been  difficult  to  kill  time  in  Paris  between  the 
31st  of  March  and  the  5th  of  April,  1814.  The  entry  of 
the  Allies,  Marmont's  great  betrayal,  the  Emperor's  abdi- 
cation, the  Cossacks  in  the  streets,  the  newspaper  offices  at 
Avork  like  hives  under  their  new  editors,  and  buzzing  con- 
tradictory news  from  morning  to  night  ;  a  new  rumour  at 
every  cafe,  a  scuffle,  or  the  makings  of  one,  at  every  street 
corner,  and  hour  by  hour  a  steady  stream  of  manifestoes, 
j^lacards,  handbills,  caricatures,  and  broad  sheets  of  oi^pro- 
brious  verse — the  din  of  it  all  went  by  me  like  the  vain 
noises  of  a  dream  as  I  trod  tlie  pavements,  intent  upon  my 
own  hopes  and  perplexities.  I  cannot  think  that  this  was 
mere  selfishness  ;  rather,  a  deep  disgust  was  Aveaning  me 
from  my  country.  If  this  Paris,  indeed,  were  the  reality, 
then  was  I  the  phantasm,  the  revenant ;  then  Avas  France 
— the  France  for  Avhich  I  had  fought  and  my  j^arents  gone 
to  the  scaffold — a  land  that  had  never  been,  and  our  patriot- 
ism the  shadoAv  of  a  shade.  Judge  me  not  too  hardly  if 
in  the  restless,  aimless  perambulations  of  those  five  days  I 
crossed  the  bridge  between  the  country  that  held  neither 
kin  nor  friends  for  me,  but  only  my  ineffectual  past,  and 
the  country  wherein  one  human  creature,  if  only  one,  had 
use  for  my  devotion. 

On  the  sixth  day— that  is,  April  5th— my  patience  broke 
down.  I  took  my  resolution  over  lunch  and  a  bottle  of 
27 


418  ST.   IVES 

Beanjolais,  and  walked  straight  back  from  the  restaurant 
to  my  lodgings,  where  I  asked  Madame  Jupille  for  pen, 
ink,  and  paper,  and  sat  down  to  advertise  Mr.  Komaine 
that,  for  good  or  ill,  he  might  expect  me  in  London  within 
twenty-four  hours  of  the  receipt  of  this  letter. 

I  had  scarce  composed  the  first  sentence  when  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Madame  Jupille  announced 
that  two  gentlemen  desired  to  see  me.  "  Show  them  up," 
said  I,  laying  down  my  pen  with  a  leaping  heart  ;  and  in 
the  doorway  a  moment  later  stood — my  cousin  Alain. 

He  was  alone.  He  glanced  with  a  grin  of  comprehension 
from  me  to  the  letter,  advanced,  set  his  hat  on  the  table 
beside  it,  and  his  gloves  (after  blowing  into  them)  beside 
his  hat. 

"  My  cousin,"  said  he,  ''  you  show  astonishing  agility 
from  time  to  time  ;  but  on  the  whole  you  are  damned  easy 
to  hunt." 

I  had  risen.  ^'I  take  it  you  have  passing  business  to 
speak  of,  since  amid  your  latest  political  occupations  you 
have  been  at  pains  to  seek  me  out.  If  so,  I  will  ask  j^ou  to 
be  brief." 

"  Xo  pains  at  all,"  he  corrected,  affably.  "  I  have  known 
all  the  time  that  you  were  here.  In  fact,  I  expected  you 
some  while  before  you  arrived,  and  sent  my  man,  Paul, 
with  a  message." 

"A  message  ?  " 

"  Certainly — touching  a  letter  from  la  helle  Flora.  You 
received  it  ?     The  message,  I  mean." 

"  Then  it  was  not " 

''  No,  decidedly  it  was  not  Mr.  Romaine,  to  whom  " — 
with  another  glance  at  the  letter — ''I  perceive  you  are  only 
writing  for  explanations.  And  since  you  are  preparing  to 
ask  how  on  earth  I  traced  you  to  this  rather  unsavoury  den, 
permit  me  to  inform  you  that  '^a  b^  spells  'ab,'  and  that 


IN   PARIS — ALAIN    PLAYS   HIS    LAST   CARD       419 

Bow  Street,  when  on  the  track  of  a  criminal,  does  not  neg- 
lect to  open  his  correspondence." 

I  felt  my  hand  tremble  as  it  gripped  the  top  rail  of  my 
chair,  but  I  managed  to  command  my  voice  to  answer, 
coldly  enough  : 

"  One  moment.  Monsieur  le  Vicomte,  before  I  do  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  pitching  you  out  of  the  window. 
You  have  detained  me  these  five  days  in  Paris,  and  have 
done  so,  you  give  me  to  understand,  by  the  simple  expedi- 
ent of  a  lie.  So  far,  so  good.  "Will  you  do  me  the  favor  to 
complete  the  interesting  self-exposure,  and  inform  me  of 
your  reasons  ?  " 

'^'With  all  the  pleasure  in  life.  My  plans  were  not 
ready — a  little  detail  wanting,  that  is  all.  It  is  now  sup- 
plied." He  took  a  chair,  seated  himself  at  the  table,  and 
drew  a  folded  paper  from  his  breast-pocket.  "  It  will  be 
news  to  you,  perhaps,  that  our  uncle — our  lamented  uncle, 
if  you  choose — is  dead  these  three  weeks." 

"  Eest  his  soul !  " 

^'Forgive  me  if  I  stop  short  of  that  pious  hope."  Alain 
hesitated,  let  his  venom  get  the  better  of  him,  and  spat  out 
an  obscure  curse  on  his  uncle's  memory,  which  only  betrayed 
the  essential  weakness  of  the  man.  Recovering  himself, 
he  went  on  :  ^' I  need  not  recall  to  you  a  certain  scene  (I 
confess  too  theatrical  for  my  taste)  arranged  by  the  lawyer 
at  his  bedside  ;  nor  need  I  help  you  to  an  inkling  of  the 
contents  of  liis  last  will.  But  possibly  it  may  have  slipped 
your  memory  that  I  gave  Romaine  fair  warning,  I  prom- 
ised him  that  I  would  raise  the  question  of  uiuliie  iullu- 
ence,  and  that  I  had  my  witnesses  ready.  I  have  added  to 
them  since,  but  I  own  to  you  that  my  case  will  be  the 
stronger  when  you  have  obligingly  signed  the  paper  which 
I  have  the  honour  to  submit  to  you."  And  he  tossed  it, 
unopened^  across  the  table. 


420  ST.    IVES 

I  picked  it  np  and  unfolded  it : — 

I,  the  Viscount  Anne  de  Keroual  de  Saint  Yves,  formerly  serving 
under  the  name  of  Champdivers,  in  the  Buonapartist  army,  and  later 
under  that  name  a  prisoner  of  war,  in  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  hereby 
state  that  I  had  neither  knowledge  of  my  uncle  the  Count  de  Keroual  de 
Saint  Yves,  nor  expectations  from  him,  nor  was  owned  by  him,  imtil 
sought  out  by  Mr.  Daniel  Romaine,  in  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  by  him 
supplied  with  money  to  expedite  my  escape,  and  by  him  clandestinely 
smuggled  at  nightfall  into  Amersham  Place ;  Further,  that  until  that 
evening  I  had  never  set  ej'es  on  my  Uncle,  nor  have  set  eyes  on  him 
since ;  that  he  was  bedridden  when  I  saw  him,  and  apparently'  in  the 
last  stage  of  senile  decay.  And  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  Mr. 
Romaine  did  not  fully  inform  him  of  the  circumstances  of  my  escape, 
and  particularly  of  my  concern  in  the  death  of  a  fellow  prisoner  named 
Goguelat,  formerly  a  marechal  des  logis  in  the  22nd  regiment  of  the 
line. 

Of  the  contents  of  this  precious  document  let  a  sample 
suffice.  From  end  to  end  it  was  a  tissue  of  distorted  state- 
ments implicated  with  dishonouring  suggestions.  I  read  it 
through,  and  let  it  drop  on  the  table. 

"I  beg  your  pardon/'  said  I,  ''but  what  do  you  wish  me 
to  do  with  it?'' 

''  Sign  it/'  said  he. 

I  laughed.  "  Once  more  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  though 
you  have  apparently  dressed  for  it,  this  is  not  comic  opera." 

"  Nevertheless,  you  will  sign." 

''  0,  you  weary  me."  I  seated  uiyself,  and  flung  a  leg 
over  the  arm  of  my  chair.  "  Shall  we  come  to  the  alter- 
native ?     For  I  assume  yon  have  one." 

"  The  alternative  ? — to  be  sure/'  he  answered  cheerfully. 
"  I  have  a  companion  below,  one  Clausel,  and  at  the  Tete 
d'Or,  a  little  down  the  street,  an  escort  of  police." 

Here  was  a  pleasing  predicament.  But  if  Alain  had 
started  with  a  chance  of  daunting  me  (which  I  do  not  ad- 
mit) he  had  spoilt  it  long  since  by  working  on  the  raw  of 


IN   PAKIS — ALAIN   PLAYS    IIIS    LAST   CARD       421 

my  temper.  I  kept  a  steady  eye  on  him,  and  considered  ; 
and  the  longer  I  considered  the  better  assured  was  I  that 
his  game  must  have  a  disastrously  weak  point  somewhere, 
which  it  was  my  business  to  find. 

^^  You  have  reminded  me  of  your  warning  to  ^Ir.  Ko- 
maine.  The  subject  is  an  ugly  one  for  two  of  our  family 
to  touch  upon  ;  but  do  you  happen  to  recall  Mr.  Romaine's 
counter- threat  ?  '^ 

"  Bluff  !  my  young  sir.  It  served  his  purpose  for  the 
moment,  I  grant  you.  I  was  unhinged — the  indignity,  the 
very  monstrosity  of  it,  the  baselessness  staggered  reason.'' 

"It  was  baseless,  then  V 

"  The  best  proof  is,  that  in  spite  of  his  threat,  and  my 
open  contempt  and  disregard  of  it,  Mr.  Romaine  has  not 
stirred  a  hand." 

''  You  mean  that  my  uncle  destroyed  the  evidence  ?" 

"I  mean  nothing  of  the  kind,''  he  retorted  hotly,  "for 
I  deny  that  any  such  evidence  at  any  time  existed." 

I  kept  my  eye  on  him.  "Alain,"  I  said  quietly,  "you 
are  a  liar." 

A  flush  darkened  his  face  beneath  its  cosmetics,  and  with 
an  oath  he  dipped  finger  and  thumb  into  his  waistcoat 
pocket  and  pulled  out  a  dog-whistle.  "  No  more  of  that," 
said  he,  "  or  I  whistle  up  the  police  this  minute." 

"  Well,  well,  let  us  resume  the  discussion.  You  say  this 
man  Clausel  has  denounced  me  ?  " 

He  nodded. 

"Soldiers  of  the  Empire  are  cheap  in  Paris  just  now." 

"  So  cheap  that  public  opinion  would  be  content  if  all 
the  Messieurs  Champdivers  were  to  kill  all  the  Messieurs 
Goguelat  and  be  shot  or  guillotined  for  it.  I  forget  whicli 
your  case  demands,  and  doubt  if  public  opinion  would 
enquire." 

"  And  yet,"  I  mused,  "  there  must  be  preliminaries,  some 


422  ST.  IVES 

form  of  trial,  for  instance,  with  witnesses.     It  is  even  j^os- 
sible  that  I  might  be  found  innocent." 

"  I  have  allowed  for  that  unlikely  chance,  and  I  look 
beyond  it.  To  be  frank,  it  does  not  strike  me  as  probable 
that  a  British  jury  will  hand  over  the  estates  of  the  Comte 
de  Keroual  de  Saint  Yves  to  an  escaj^ed  Buonapartist 
prisoner  who  has  stood  his  trial  for  the  murder  of  a  com- 
rade, and  received  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.'' 

"Allow  me,"  said  I,  ^*^to  open  the  window  an  inch  or 
two.  Xo,  put  back  your  whistle,  I  do  not  propose  to  fling 
you  out — at  least  not  just  yet ;  nor  will  I  try  to  escape.  To 
tell  you  the  truth,  you  suggest  the  need  of  a  little  fresh 
air.  And  now.  Monsieur,  you  assure  me  you  hold  the 
knave  in  your  hand.  Well,  then,  play  him.  Before  I  tear 
your  foolish  paper  up,  let  me  have  a  look  at  your  con- 
federate." I  stepped  to  the  door  and  called  down  the 
stairs,  '^Madame  Jupille,  be  so  good  as  to  ask  my  other 
visitor  to  ascend." 

With  that  I  turned  to  the  window  again  and  stood  there 
looking  out  upon  the  foul  gutter  along  which  the  refuse  of 
some  dye-works  at  the  head  of  the  street  found  its  way 
down  to  the  Seine.  And  standing  so,  I  heard  the  expected 
footsteps  mounting  the  stairs. 

"  I  must  ask  your  pardon.  Monsieur,  for  this  intrusion.'' 

''  Iley  !  "  If  the  words  had  been  a  charge  of  shot  fired 
into  my  back,  I  could  not  have  spun  round  on  them  more 
sudclenl}^     "Mr.  Romaine!" 

For  indeed  it  was  he,  and  not  Clausel,  who  stood  in  the 
doorway.  And  to  this  day  I  do  not  know  if  Alain  or  I 
stared  at  him  with  the  blanker  bewilderment,  though  I  be- 
lieve there  was  a  significant  difference  in  our  complexions. 

"  Monsieur  the  Viscount,"  said  Romaine  advancing,  '•'  re- 
cently effected  an  exchange.  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to 
effect  another,  and  have  left  Mr,  Clausel  below  listening  to 


IN   PARTS — ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS   LAST   CARD       423 

some  arguments  which  are  being  addressed  to  him  by  Mr. 
Dudgeon,  mv  confidential  clerk.  I  think  I  may  promise" 
— with  a  chuckle — "  they  will  prove  effectual.  By  your 
faces,  gentlemen,  I  see  that  you  regard  my  appearance  as 
something  in  the  nature  of  a  miracle.  Yet,  Monsieur  le  Vis- 
count, at  least,  should  be  guessing  by  this  time  that  it  is  the 
simplest,  most  natural  affair  in  the  world.  I  engaged  my 
word,  sir,  to  have  you  watched.  Will  it  be  set  down  to 
more  than  ordinary  astuteness  that,  finding  you  in  nego- 
tiations for  the  exchange  of  the  prisoner  Clausel — we  kept 
an  eye  upon  him  also — that  we  followed  him  to  Dover,  and 
though  unfortunate  in  missing  the  boat,  reached  Paris  in 
time  to  watch  the  pair  of  you  leave  your  lodgings  this 
morning — nay,  that,  knowing  whither  you  were  bound,  we 
reached  the  Kue  du  Fouarre  in  time  to  watch  you  making 
your  dispositions  ?  But  I  run  on  too  fast,  Mr.  Anne  ;  I  am 
entrusted  with  a  letter  for  you.  When,  with  Mr.  Alain's 
permission,  you  have  read  it,  we  will  resume  our  little  con- 
versation.'* 

He  handed  me  the  letter  and  walked  to  the  fireplace, 
where  he  took  snuff  copiously,  while  Alain  eyed  him  like  a 
mastiff  about  to  spring.  I  broke  open  my  letter  and 
stooped  to  pick  up  a  small  enclosure  which  fell  from  it. 

My  Dearest  Anne, 

When  your  letter  came  and  put  life  into  me  again,  I  sat  down  in  my 
happiness  and  wrote  you  one  that  I  shall  never  allow  you  to  see ;  for  it 
makes  me  wonder  at  myself.  But  when  I  took  it  to  Mr.  Robbie,  he 
asked  to  see  your  letter,  and  when  I  showed  him  the  wrapper^  declared 
that  it  had  been  tampered  with,  and  if  I  wrote  and  told  you  what  we 
were  doing  for  you  it  might  only  make  your  enemies  the  wiser.  For 
we  have  done  something,  and  this  (which  is  purely  a  business  letter) 
is  to  tell  you  that  the  credit  does  not  all  belong  to  Mr.  Robbie,  or  to 
your  Mr.  Romaine  (who,  by  Mr.  Robbie's  account,  must  be  quite  a 
tiresome  old  man,  though  well-meaning,  no  doubt).  But  on  the  Tues- 
day after  you  left  us  I  had  a  talk  with  Major  Chevenix,  and  when  I 


424  ST.  IVES 

really  felt  quite  sorry  for  bim  (though  it  was  no  use,  and  I  told  him  so) 
he  turned  round  in  a  way  I  could  not  but  admire  and  said  he  wished  me 
well,  and  would  prove  it.  He  said  the  charge  against  you  was  really 
one  for  the  military  authorities  alone,  that  he  had  reasons  for  feeling 
sure  that  you  had  been  drawn  into  this  affair  on  a  point  of  honoui'^ 
which  was  quite  a  different  thing  from  what  they  said ;  and  that  he 
could  not  only  make  an  affidavit  or  something  of  the  kind  on  his  own 
account,  but  knew  enough  of  that  man  Clausel  to  make  him  confess 
the  truth.  AVhich  he  did  the  very  next  day,  and  made  Clausel  sign  it ; 
and  Mr.  Robbie  has  a  copy  of  the  man's  statement  Avhich  he  is  sending 
with  this  to  Mr.  Romaine  in  London ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  Row- 
ley (who  is  a  dear)  has  come  over,  and  is  waiting  in  the  kitchen  while  I 
write  these  hurried  lines.  He  says,  too,  that  Major  Chevenix  was  only 
just  in  time,  since  Clausel's  friends  are  managing  an  exchange  for  him, 
and  he  is  going  back  to  France.     And  so  in  haste  I  write  myself. 

Your  sincere  friend, 

Flora. 

P.S. — My  aunt  is  well;  Ronald  is  expecting  his  commission. 

P.P.S. — You  told  me  to  write  it,  and  so  I  must :  "  I  love  you,  Anne." 

The  enclosure  was  a  note  in  a  large  and  unformed  hand, 
and  ran  : 

Dear  Mr.  Anne,  Respected  Sir, 

This  comes  hopeing  to  find  you  well  as  it  leaves  me  at  present,  all  is 
well  as  Miss  Flora  will  tell  you  that  double-died  Clausel  has  confest. 
This  is  to  tell  you  Mrs.  MacR.  is  going  on  nicely,  bar  the  religion  which 
is  only  put  on  to  anoy  people  and  being  a  widow — who  blames  her,  not 
me.  Miss  Flora  says  she  will  put  this  in  with  hers,  and  there  is  some- 
thing else  but  it  is  a  dead  secret,  so  no  more  at  present  from,  sir ; 

Yours  Respectfully, 

Jas.  Rowlt. 

Having  read  these  letters  through,  I  placed  them  in  my 
breast-pocket,  stepped  to  the  table  and  handed  Alain's 
document  gravely  back  to  him ;  then  turned  to  Mr.  Eo- 
maine,  who  shut  his  snuff-box  with  a  snap. 

*^It  only  remains,  I  think,''  said  the  lawyer,  *^*^ to  discuss 
the  terms  which  (merely  as  a  matter  of  generosity,  or,  say, 


IN   PAllIS— ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS   LAST   CARD       425 

for  the  credit  of  your  house)  can  be  granted  to  your — to 
Mr.  Alain/' 

"  You  forget  Olausel,  I  think/'  snarled  my  cousin. 

"  True,  I  had  forgotten  Olausel."  Mr.  Romaine  stepped 
to  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  called  down,  ''Dudgeon  !  " 

Mr.  Dudgeon  appeared,  and  endeavoured  to  throw  into 
the  stiffness  of  his  salutation  a  denial  that  he  had  ever 
waltzed  with  me  in  the  moonlight. 

*'  Where  is  the  man  Clausel  ?  " 

''  I  hardly  know,  sir,  if  ycu  would  place  the  wineshop 
of  the  Tete  d'Or  at  the  top  or  the  bottom  of  this  street  ;  I 
presume  the  bottom,  since  the  sewer  runs  in  that  direction. 
At  all  events,  Mr.  Clausel  disappeared  about  two  minutes 
ago  in  the  other." 

Alain  sprang  up,  whistle  in  hand. 

"  Put  it  down,''  said  Mr.  Romaine  ;  "  the  man  was  cheat- 
ing you.  I  can  only  hope,"  he  added  with  a  sour  smile, 
"that  you  paid  him  on  account  with  an  I.  0.  U." 

But  Alain  turned  at  bay.  "  One  trivial  point  seems  to 
have  escaped  you.  Master  Attorney,  or  your  courage  is 
more  than  I  give  you  credit  for.  The  English  are  none 
too  popular  in  Paris  as  yet,  and  this  is  not  the  most  scrupu- 
lous quarter.     One  blast  of  this  wliistle,  a  cry  of  "  Espion 

anglais,"  and  two  Englishmen " 

''  Say  three,"  Mr.  Romaine  interrupted,  and  strode  to 
the  door.  ''  Will  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn  be  good  enough  to 
step  upstairs." 

And  here  let  me  cry  "  Halt !  "  There  are  things  in  this 
world— or  that  is  my  belief— too  pitiful  to  be  set  down  in 
writing,  and  of  these  Alain's  collapse  was  one.  It  nuiy  be, 
too,  that  Mr.  Romaine's  British  righteousness  accorded 
rather  ill  with  the  weapon  he  used  so  unsparingly.  Of 
Fenn  I  need  only  say  that  the  luscious  rogue  shouldered 
through  the  doorway  as  though  he  had  a  pul)lic  duty  to 


426  ST.    IVES 

discharge  and  only  the  contrariness  of  circumstances  had 
prevented  his  discharging  it  before.  He  cringed  to  Mr. 
Romaine,  who  held  him  and  the  whole  nexus  of  his  vil- 
lainies in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  ;  he  was  even  obsequiously 
eager  to  denounce  his  fellow  traitor.  Under  a  like  com- 
pulsion, he  would  (I  feel  sure)  have  denounced  his  own 
mother.  I  saw  the  sturdy  Dudgeon's  mouth  working  like 
a  bull  terrier's  over  a  shrew  mouse.  And  between  them, 
Alain  had  never  a  chance.  Not  for  the  first  time  in  this 
history,  I  found  myself  all  but  taking  sides  with  him  in 
sheer  repulsion  against  the  barbarity  of  the  attack.  It 
seemed  that  it  was  through  Fenn  that  Mr.  Romaine  had 
first  happened  on  the  scent ;  and  the  greater  rogue  had 
held  back  a  part  of  the  evidence  and  would  trade  it  now — 
"  having  been  led  astray — to  any  gentleman  that  would 
let  bygones  be  bygones."  And  it  was  I  at  length  Avho  in- 
terposed when  my  cousin  was  beaten  to  his  knees,  and  hav- 
ing dismissed  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn,  restored  the  discussion  to 
a  business-like  footing.  The  end  of  it  was  that  Alain  re- 
nounced all  his  claims,  and  accepted  a  yearly  pension  of 
six  thousand  francs.  Mr.  Romaine  made  it  a  condition 
that  he  should  never  set  foot  again  in  England  ;  but  see- 
ing that  he  would  certainly  be  arrested  for  debt  within 
twenty-four  hours  of  his  landing  at  Dover,  I  thought  this 
unnecessary. 

''A  good  day's  work,"  said  the  lawyer,  as  we  stood  to- 
gether in  the  street  outside. 

But  I  was  silent. 

''And  now,  Mr.  Anne,  if  I  may  have  the  honour  o. 
your  company  at  dinner — shall  we  say  Tortoni's  ? — we  will 
on  our  Avay  step  round  to  my  hotel,  the  Quatre  Saisons, 
behind  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  order  a  caleche  and  four  to 
be  in  readiness." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

I     GO    TO     CLAIM     FLORA 

Behold  me  now  speeding  northwards  on  the  wings  of 
love,  ballasted  by  Mr.  Romaine.  But  indeed,  that  worthy 
man  climbed  into  the  caleche  with  something  less  than  his 
habitual  gravity.  He  was  obviously  and  pardonably  flushed 
with  triumph.  I  observed  that  now  and  again  he  smiled 
to  himself  in  the  twilight,  or  drew  in  his  breath  and 
emitted  it  with  a  martial  pouf  !  And  when  he  began  to 
talk — which  he  did  as  soon  as  we  were  clear  of  the  Saint 
Denis  barrier — the  points  of  the  family  lawyer  were  un- 
trussed.  He  leaned  back  in  the  caleche  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  had  subscribed  to  the  Peace  of  Europe  and  dined 
well  on  top  of  it.  He  criticised  the  fortifications  with  a 
wave  of  his  toothpick,  and  discoursed  derisively  and  at 
large  on  the  Emperor's  abdication,  on  the  treachery  of  the 
Duke  of  Ragusa,  on  the  prospects  of  the  Bourbons,  and  on 
the  character  of  M.  Talleyrand,  with  anecdotes  which  made 
up  in  raciness  for  what  they  lacked  in  authenticity. 

We  were  bowling  through  La  Ohapelle  when  he  pulled 
out  his  snuff-box  and  proffered  it. 

"  You  are  silent,  Mr.  Anne." 

^'  I  was  waiting  for  the  chorus,"  said  I.  '^ '  Rule,  Britan- 
nia !  Britannia  rules  the  waves  :  and  Britons  never, 
never,  never — '     Come,  out  with  it  !  " 

^^  Well,"  he  retorted,  ^*^andIhope  the  tune  will  come, 
natural  to  you  before  long." 

427 


428  ST.  IVES 

^'  0,  give  me  time,  my  dear  sir  !  I  have  seen  the  Cos- 
sacks enter  Paris,  and  the  Parisians  decorate  their  poodles 
with  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  I  have  seen 
them  hoist  a  wretch  on  the  Vendome  Cohimn  to  smite  the 
bronze  face  of  the  man  of  Austerlitz.  I  have  seen  the 
salle  of  the  Opera  rise  to  apphind  a  bhitant  fat  fellow  sing- 
ing the  praises  of  the  Prussian — and  to  the  tune  of  ^Vive 
Henri  Quatre  ! '  I  have  seen,  in  my  cousin  Alain,  of  what 
the  best  blood  in  France  is  capable.  Also  I  have  seen 
peasant  boys — unripe  crops  of  the  later  levies — mown  down 
by  grape-shot,  raise  themselves  on  their  elbows  to  cheer 
for  France  and  the  little  man  in  gray.  In  time,  Mr.  Eo- 
maine,  no  doubt  my  memory  will  confuse  these  lads  with 
their  betters,  and  their  mothers  with  the  ladies  of  the  salle 
d;  Opera,  just  as  in  time,  no  doubt,  I  shall  find  myself  Jus- 
tice of  the  Peace  and  Deputy  Lieutenant  of  the  shire  of 
Buckingham.  I  am  changing  my  country,  as  you  remind 
me,  and,  on  my  faith,  she  has  no  place  for  me.  But  for 
the  sake  of  her  I  have  explored  and  found  the  best  of  her 
— in  my  new  country's  prisons  ;  and  I  repeat,  you  must 
give  me  time." 

^'  Tut,  tut  !  "  was  his  comment,  as  I  searched  for  tinder- 
box  and  sulphur  match  to  relight  my  cigar.  ''  We  must 
get   you   into   Parliament,    Mr.    Anne.      You    have    the 

gift." 

As  we  approached  Saint  Denis  the  flow  of  his  discourse 
sensibly  slackened,  and,  a  little  beyond,  he  pulled  his  trav- 
elling-cap over  his  ears  and  settled  down  to  slumber.  I  sat 
wide-awake  beside  him.  The  spring  night  had  a  touch  of 
chill  in  it,  and  the  breath  of  our  horses  streaming  back 
upon  the  lamps  of  the  caliche  kept  a  constant  nimbus  be- 
tween me  and  the  postilions.  Above  it,  and  over  the 
black  spires  of  the  poplar  avenues,  the  regiments  of  stars 
moved  in  parade.     My  gaze  went  up  to  the  ensign  of  their 


I   GO   TO   CLAIM   FLORA  429 

noiseless  evolutions,  to  the  pole-star,  and  to  Cassiopeia 
swinging  beneath  it,  low  in  the  north,  over  my  Flora's  pil- 
low— my  pole-star  and  journey^s  end. 

Under  this  soothing  reflection  I  composed  myself  to 
slumber,  and  awoke,  to  my  surprise  and  annoyance,  in  a 
miserable  flutter  of  the  nerves.  And  this  f  retf  ulness  in- 
creased with  the  hours,  so  that  from  Amiens  to  the  coast 
Mr.  Romaine  must  have  had  the  devil  of  a  time  with  me. 
I  bolted  my  meals  at  the  way-houses,  chafing  all  the  while 
at  the  business  of  the  relays.  I  popped  up  and  down  in 
the  caleche  like  a  shot  on  a  hot  shovel.  I  cursed  our  pace. 
I  girded  at  the  lawyer's  snuff-box  and  could  have  called 
him  out  upon  Calais  sands,  when  we  reached  them,  to  jus- 
tify his  vile,  methodical  use  of  it.  By  good  fortune  we 
arrived  to  find  the  packet  ready  with  her  warps,  and  bun- 
dled ourselves  on  board  in  a  hurry.  A¥e  sought  separate 
cabins  for  the  night,  and  in  mine,  as  in  a  sort  of  moral 
bath,  the  drastic  cross  seas  of  the  Channel  cleansed  me  of 
my  irritable  humour  and  left  me  like  a  rag  beaten  and 
hung  on  a  clothes-line  to  the  winds  of  heaven. 

In  the  grey  of  the  morning  we  disembarked  at  Dover, 
and  here  Mr.  Romaine  had  prepared  a  surprise  for  me. 
For  as  we  drew  to  the  shore  and  the  throng  of  porters  and 
waterside  loafers,  on  what  should  my  gaz-e  alight  but  the 
beaming  countenance  of  Mr.  Rowley  !  I  declare  it  com- 
municated a  roseate  flush  to  the  pallid  cliffs  of  Albion.  T 
could  have  fallen  on  his  neck.  On  his  side  the  honest  lad 
kept  touching  his  hat  and  grinning  in  a  speechless  ecstasy. 
As  he  confessed  to  me  later,  "It  Avas  either  hold  my 
tongue,  sir,  or  call  for  three  cheers."  He  snatched  my 
valise  and  ushered  us  through  the  crowd  to  our  hotel 
breakfast.  And  it  seemed  he  must  have  filled  up  his  time 
at  Dover  with  trumpetings  of  our  importance,  for  the  land- 
lord welcomed  us  on  the  perro7i,  obsequiously  cringing. 


430  ST.    IVES 

We  entered  in  a  respectful  liush  that  might  have  flattered 
His  Grace  of  Wellington  himself  ;  and  the  waiters,  I  be- 
lieve, would  have  gone  on  all  fours  but  for  the  difficulty 
of  reconciling  that  posture  with  efficient  service.  I  knew 
myself  at  last  for  a  Personage  ;  a  great  English  landowner, 
and  did  my  best  to  command  the  mien  proper  to  that  tre- 
mendous class  when,  the  meal  despatched,  we  passed  out 
between  the  bowing  ranks  to  the  door  where  our  chaise 
stood  ready. 

''  But  hullo  ! "  said  I  at  sight  of  it,  and  my  eye  sought 
Rowley's. 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  took  it  on  myself  to 
order  the  colour,  and  hoping  it  wasn't  a  liberty.'' 

^^  Claret  and  invisible  green  —  a  duplicate,  but  for  a 
bullet-hole  wanting." 

"  Which  I  didn't  like  to  go  so  far  on  my  own  hook,  Mr. 
Anne." 

^'  We  fight  under  the  old  colours,  my  lad." 

'^  And  walk  in  and  win  this  time,  sir,  strike  me  lucky  !" 

While  we  bowled  along  the  first  stage  towards  London — 
Mr.  Romaine  and  I  within  the  chaise  and  Rowley  perched 
upon  the  dicke}^ — I  told  the  lawyer  of  our  progress  from 
Aylesbury  to  Kirkby-Lonsdale.     He  took  snuff. 

"Forsitan  et  Iicbc  olim — that  Rowley  of  yours  seems  a 
good-hearted  lad,  and  less  of  a  fool  than  he  looks.  The 
next  time  I  have  to  travel  post  with  an  impatient  lover  I'll 
take  a  leaf  out  of  his  book  and  buy  me  a  flageolet." 

'^  Sir,  it  was  ungrateful  of  me " 

^^  Tut,  tut,  Mr.  Anne.  I  was  fresh  from  my  little  tri- 
umph, that  is  all,  and  perhaps  would  have  felt  the  better 
for  a  word  of  approbation — a  little  pat  on  the  back,  as  I 
may  say.  It  is  not  often  that  I  have  felt  the  need  of  it — 
twice  or  thrice  in  my  life,  perhaps ;  not  often  enough  to 
justify  my  anticipating  your  example  and  seeking  a  wifa 


I   GO   TO   CLAIM   FLORA  431 

betimes,  for  that  is  a  man^s  one  chance  if  he  wants  another 
to  taste  his  success.'' 

'^  And  yet  I  dare  swear  yon  rejoice  in  mine,  unselfishly 
enough/^ 

"  Why,  no,  sir  ;  your  cousin  would  have  sent  me  to  the 
right-about  within  a  Aveek  of  his  succession.  Still,  I  own 
to  you  that  he  offended  something  at  least  as  deep  as  self- 
interest  ;  the  sight  and  scent  of  him  habitually  turned  my 
gorge  ;  whereas  " — and  he  inclined  to  me  with  a  dry  smile 
— "  your  unwisdom  at  least  was  amiable,  and — in  short, 
sir,  though  you  can  be  infernally  provoking,  it  has  been  a 
pleasure  to  serve  you." 

You  may  be  sure  that  this  did  not  lessen  my  contrition. 
We  reached  London  late  that  night,  and  here  Mr.  Romaine 
took  leave  of  us.  Business  waited  for  him  at  Amersham 
Place.  After  a  few  hours'  sleep,  Rowley  woke  me  to  choose 
between  two  post-boys  in  blue  jackets  and  white  hats  and 
two  in  buif  jackets  and  black  hats,  who  were  competing  for 
the  honour  of  conveying  us  as  far  as  Barnet,  and  having  de- 
cided in  favour  of  the  blue-and-white,  and  solaced  the  bulf- 
and-black  with  a  pour-boire,  we  pushed  forAvard  once  more. 

We  were  now  upon  the  Great  North  Road,  along  which 
the  York  mail  rolled  its  steady  ten  miles  an  hour,  to  the 
wafted  music  of  the  guard's  bugle — a  rate  of  speed  which,  to 
the  more  Dorian  mood  of  Mr.  Rowley's  flageolet,  I  proposed 
to  better  by  one-fifth.  But  first,  having  restored  the  lad 
to  his  old  seat  beside  me,  I  must  cross-question  him  upon 
his  adventures  in  Edinburgh  and  the  latest  news  of  Flora 
and  her  aunt,  Mr.  Robbie,  Mrs.  McRankine,  and  the  rest  of 
my  friends.  It  came  out  that  Mr.  Rowley's  surrender  to 
my  dear  girl  had  been  both  instantaneous  and  complete. 
"  She  is  a  floorer,  Mr.  Anne.  I  suppose  now,  sir,  you'll 
be  standing  up  for  that  knock-me-down  kind  of  thing  ? "" 

^^  Explain  yourself,  my  lad." 


432  ST.    IVES 

^'  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,  what  they  call  love  at  first 
sight."  He  wore  an  ingenuous  blush  and  an  expression  at 
once  shy  and  insinuating. 

"  The  poets,  Eowley,  are  on  my  side." 

"  Mrs.  McRankine,  sir " 

''  The  Queen  of  Navarre,  Mr.  Rowley " 


But  he  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to  interrupt — "  It  took 
Mrs.  McRankine  years,  sir,  to  get  used  to  her  first  hus- 
band.    She  told  me  so." 

"  It  took  us  some  days,  if  I  remember,  to  get  used  to 
Mrs.  McRankine.     To  be  sure,  her  cooking '' 

"  That's  what  I  say,  Mr.  Anne  ;  it's  more  than  skin- 
deep.  And  you'll  hardly  believe  me,  sir — that  is,  if  you 
didn't  take  note  of  it — but  she  hev  got  an  ankle." 

He  had  produced  the  pieces  of  his  flageolet  and  was  ad- 
justing them  nervously,  "with  a  face  red  as  a  turkey-cock's 
wattles.  I  regarded  him  with  a  new  and  incredulous 
amusement.  That  I  served  Mr.  Rowley  for  a  glass  of  fash- 
ion and  a  mould  of  form  was,  of  course,  no  new  discov- 
ery, and  the  traditions  of  body-service  allow,  nay,  enjoiu, 
that  when  the  gentleman  goes  a- wooing  the  valet  shall  take 
a  sympathetic  wound.  What,  too,  could  be  more  natural 
than  that  a  gentleman  of  sixteen  should  select  a  lady  of 
fifty  for  his  first  essay  in  the  tender  passion.  Still — Bethiah 
McRankine  ! 

I  kept  my  countenance  with  an  effort.  ''  Mr.  Rowley," 
said  I,  *'  if  music  be  the  food  of  love,  play  on."  And  Mr. 
Rowley  gave  ''  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me,"  shyly  at  first, 
but  anon  with  terrific  expression.  He  broke  off  with  a 
slight  "  Heigho  !"  in  fact,  said  Rowley,  and  started  off 
again,  while  I  tapped  out  the  time,  and  liummed  : 

"  But  now  I'm  bound  for  Brighton  camp — 
Kind  heaven  then  pray  guide  me, 
And  send  me  safely  back  again 
To  the  Girl  I  left  behind  me !  " 


I    GO   TO    CLxMM    FLORA  433 

Thenceforward  that  not  nninspiriting  air  became  the 
motif  of  our  progress.  We  never  tired  of  it.  AVhencver 
our  conversation  flagged,  by  tacit  consent  Mr.  Rowley 
pieced  his  flageolet  together  and  started  it.  The  horses 
lilted  it  out  in  their  gallop  :  the  harness  jingled,  the  pos- 
tilions tittupped  to  it.  And  the  presto  with  which  it 
wound  up  as  we  came  to  a  post-house  and  a  fresh  relay  of 
horses,  had  to  be  heard  to  be  believed. 

So  with  the  chaise  windows  open  to  the  vigorous  airs  of 
spring,  and  my  own  breast  like  a  window  flung  wide  to 
youth  and  health  and  happy  expectations,  I  rattled  home- 
wards ;  impatient  as  a  lover  should  be,  yet  not  too  im- 
patient to  taste  the  humour  of  spinning  like  a  lord,  with  a 
pocketful  of  money,  along  the  road  which  the  ci-devcmt  M. 
Champdivers  had  so  fearfully  dodged  and  skirted  in  Bur- 
chell  Fenn^s  covered  cart. 

And  yet  so  impatient,  that  when  we  galloped  over  the 
Calton  Hill  and  down  into  Edinburgh  by  the  new  London 
road,  with  the  wind  in  our  faces  and  a  sense  of  April  in  it, 
brisk  and  jolly,  I  must  pack  off  Rowley  to  our  lodgings 
with  the  valises,  and  stay  only  for  a  wash  and  breakfast  at 
Dumbreck's  before  posting  on  to  Swanston  alone. 

"  Whene'er  my  steps  return  that  way, 
Still  faithful  shall  she  find  me. 
And  never  more  again  I'll  stray 
From  the  Girl  I  left  behind  me."   . 

Where  the  gables  of  the  cottage  rose  into  view  over  the 

hill's  shoulder  I  dismissed  my  driver  and  walked  forward, 

whistling  the  tune  :  but  fell  silent  as  I  came  under  the  lee 

of  the  garden  wall,  and  sought  for  the  exact  spot  of  my  old 

escalade.     I  found  it  by  the  wide  beechen  branches  over 

the  road,  and  hoisted  myself  noiselessly  up  to  the  coping, 

where,  as  before,  they  screened  me — or  would  have  screened 

me  had  I  cared  to  wait. 
28 


434  ST.   lYES 

But  I  did  not  care  to  wait  ;  and  why  ?  Because,  not  fif- 
teen yards  from  me  she  stood  !— she,  my  Flora,  my  goddess, 
bare-lieaded,  swept  by  chequers  of  morning  sunshine  and 
green  shadows,  with  the  dew  on  her  sandal  shoes  and  the 
lap  of  her  morning  gown  appropriately  heaped  with  flowers 
—with  tulips,  scarlet,  yellow,  and  striped.  And  confront- 
ing her,  with  his  back  towards  me  and  a  remembered  patch 
between  the  armholes  of  his  stable- waistcoat,  Robie  the 
gardener  rested  both  hands  on  his  spade  and  expostulated. 

"  But  I  like  to  pick  my  tulips  leaves  and  all,  Robie  I '' 

'"•Aweel,  miss;  it's  clean  ruinin'  the  bulbs,  that's  all  I 
say  to  you.'' 

And  that  was  all  I  waited  to  hear.  As  he  bent  over  and 
resumed  his  digging  I  shook  a  branch  of  the  beech  with 
both  hands  and  set  it  swaying.  She  heard  the  rustle  and 
glanced  up  and,  spying  me,  uttered  a  gasping  little  cry. 

''  What  ails  ye,  miss  ?  "  Robie  straightened  himself  in- 
stanter  ;  but  she  had  whipped  right-about  face  and  was 
gazing  towards  the  kitchen  garden  : 

''Isn't  that  a  child  among  the  arti— the  strawberry-beds, 
I  mean  ?  " 

He  cast  down  his  spade  and  ran.  She  turned,  let  the 
tulips  fall  at  her  feet,  and,  ah  !  her  second  cry  of  gladness, 
and  lier  heavenly  blush  as  she  stretched  out  both  arms  to 
me.  It  was  all  happening  over  again— with  the  difference 
that  now  my  arms  too  were  stretched  out. 

"  Journeys  end  in  lovers  meeting, 
Every  wise  man's  son  doth  know.     .     .     ." 

Robie  had  run  a  dozen  yards  perhaps,  when  either  the 
noise  I  made  in  scrambling  off  the  wall,  or  some  recollec- 
tion of  having  been  served  in  this  way  before,  brouglit 
him  to  a  halt.  At  any  rate  he  turned  round,  and  just  in 
time  to  Avitness  our  embrace. 


I   GO   TO   CLAIM   FLORA.  435 

^' The  good  Lord  beliear  !^'  he  exclaimed,  stood  stock- 
still  for  a  moment,  and  waddled  olf  at  top  speed  towards 
the  back  door. 

"  We  must  tell  Aunt  at  once  !  She  will — why,  Anne, 
where  are  you  going  ?"  She  caught  my  sleeve. 
''  To  the  hen-house,  to  be  sure,'^  said  I. 
A  moment  later,  with  peals  of  happy  laughter  we  had 
taken  hands  and  were  running  along  the  garden  alleys  tow- 
ards the  house.  And  I  remember,  as  we  ran,  finding  it 
somewhat  singular  that  this  should  be  the  first  time 
I  had  ever  invaded  Swanston  Cottage  by  way  of  the  front 
door. 

We  came  upon  Mrs.  Gilchrist  in  the  breakfast-room.  A 
pile  of  linen  lay  on  the  horse-hair  sofa,  and  the  good  lady, 
with  a  measuring-tape  in  one  hand  and  a  pair  of  scissors 
in  the  other,  was  walking  around  Ronald,  who  stood  on 
the  hearthrug  in  a  very  manly  attitude.  She  regarded  me 
over  her  gold-rimmed  spectacles,  and,  shifting  the  scissors 
into  her  left  hand,  held  out  her  right. 

''  Wm"  said  she  ]  "I  give  ye  good-morning,  Mosha. 
And  what  might  you  be  wanting  of  us  this  time  ?" 

"  Madam,"  I  answered,  ''  that  I  hope,  is  fairly  evi- 
dent." 

Ronald  came  forward.  "I  congratulate  you,  Saint- 
Yves,  with  all  my  heart.  And  you  may  congratulate  me  : 
I  h*ve  my  commission." 

''  Nay,  then,"  said  I,  "  let  me  rather  congratulate  Fraiice 
that  the  war  is  over.  Seriously,  my  dear  fellow,  I  wish 
you  joy.     What's  the  regiment  ?" 

"  The  4th." 

"  Chevenix's ! " 

'^Chevenix  is  a  decent  fellow.  He  has  behaved  very 
well,  indeed  he  has." 

''  Very  well  indeed,"  said  Flora,  nodding  her  head. 


436  ST.    IVES 

"  He  lias  the  knack.  But  if  you  expect  me  to  like  him 
any  the  better  for  it '' 

''  Major  Chevenix/'  put  in  Mrs.  Gilchrist,  in  her  most 
rhadamantine  voice,  "  always  sets  me  in  mind  of  a  pair  of 
scissors."  She  opened  and  shut  the  pair  in  her  hand,  and 
I  had  to  confess  that  the  stiff  and  sawing  action  was  ad- 
mirably illustrative. 

^'But  I  wish  to  heaven,  madam/'  thought  I,  ''^  you 
could  have  chosen  another  simile  !" 

In  the  evening  of  that  beatific  day  I  walked  back  to 
Edinburgh  by  some  aerial  and  rose-clouded  path  not  in- 
dicated on  the  maps.  It  led  somehow  to  my  lodgings,  and 
my  feet  touched  earth  when  the  door  was  opened  to  me  by 
Bethiah  McRankine. 

^^But  where  is  Rowley  ?"  1  asked  a  moment  later,  look- 
ing  round  my  sitting-room. 

Mrs.  McRankine  smiled  sardonically.  "  Him  ?  He  came 
back  rolling  his  eves  so  that  I  guessed  him  to  be  troubled 
in  the  wind.  And  he's  in  bed  this  hour  past  with  a  spoon- 
ful of  peppermint  in  his  little  wame."' 


And  here  I  may  ring  down  the  curtain  upon  the  advent- 
nres  of  Anne  de  Saint- Yves. 

Flora  and  I  were  married  early  in  June,  and  bad  been 
settled  for  little  over  six  months  amid  the  splendouiis  of 
Amersham  Place  when  news  came  of  the  Emj^eror's  es- 
cape from  Elba.  Throughout  the  consequent  alarums  and 
excursions  of  the  Hundred  Days  (as  M.  de  Chambord 
named  them  for  us)  I  have  to  confess  that  the  Vicomte 
Anne  sat  still  and  warmed  his  hands  at  the  domestic  hearth. 
To  be  sure,  Xapolcon  liad  been  my  master,  and  I  had  no  love 
for  the  cocarde  hlanclie.  But  here  was  I,  an  Englisliman, 
already,  in  legal  but  inaccurate  phrase,  a  ^'^naturalised" 


I   GO   TO    CLAIM   FLOEA  437 

one,  having,  as  Mr.  Romaine  put  it,  a  stake  in  the  country, 
not  to  speak  of  a  growing  interest  in  its  game-laws  and  the 
local  administration  of  justice.  In  short,  here  was  a  situa- 
tion to  tickle  a  casuist.  It  did  not,  I  may  say,  tickle  me  in 
the  least,  but  played  the  mischief  with  my  peace.  If  you, 
my  friends,  having  weighed  the 2) round  contra,  would  have 
counselled  inaction,  possibly  allowing  for  the  hebetude  de 
foyer  and  the  fact  that  Flora  was  soon  to  become  a  mother, 
you  might  have  predicted  it.  At  any  rate,  I  sat  still  and 
read  the  newspapers  ;  and  on  the  top  of  them  came  a  letter 
from  Ronald,  announcing  that  the  4th  had  their  march- 
ing, or  rather  their  sailing,  orders,  and  that  within  a  week 
his  boat  would  rock  by  the  pier  of  Leith  to  convey  him 
and  his  comrades  to  join  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  forces 
in  the  Low  Countries.  Forthwith,  nothing  would  suit  my 
dear  girl  but  we  must  post  to  Edinburgh  to  bid  him  fare- 
well—in a  chariot,  this  time,  with  a  box  seat  for  her  maid 
and  Mr.  Rowley.  We  reached  Swanston  in  time  for  Ronald 
to  spend  the  eve  of  his  departure  with  us  at  the  cottage  ; 
and  very  gallant  the  boy  looked  in  his  scarlet  uniform, 
which  he  wore  for  the  ladies'  benefit,  and  which  (God 
forgive  us  men  !)  they  properly  bedewed  with  their  tears. 

Early  next  morning  Ave  drove  over  to  the  city  and  drew 
up  in  the  thick  of  the  crowd  gathered  at  the  foot  of  the 
Castle  Hill  to  see  the  4th  march  out.  We  had  waited  half 
an  hour,  perhaps,  when  we  heard  two  thumps  of  a  drum 
and  the  first  notes  of  the  regimental  quick-step  sounded 
within  the  walls  ;  the  sentry  at  the  outer  gate  stepped  back 
and  presented  arms,  and  the  ponderous  archway  grew 
bright  with  the  red  coats  and  brazen  instruments  of  the 
band.  The  farewells  on  their  side  had  been  said  ;  and  the 
inexorable  tramp-tramp  upon  the  drawbridge  was  the 
burthen  of  their  answer  to  the  waving  handkerchiefs, 
the  huzzas  of  the  citizens,  the  cries  of  the  women.     On 


438  ST.  IVES 

they  came^  and  in  the  fifst  rank,  behind  the  band,  rose 
Major  Chevenix.  He  saw  us,  flushed  a  little,  and  gravely 
saluted.  I  never  liked  the  man  ;  but  will  admit  he  made 
a  fine  figure  there.  And  I  pitied  him  a  little  ;  for  while 
his  eyes  rested  on  Flora,  hers  wandered  to  the  rear  of  the 
third  company,  where  Ensign  Ronald  Gilchrist  marched 
beside  the  tattered  colours,  with  chin  held  high  and  a  high 
colour  on  his  young  cheeks  and  a  lip  that  quivered  as  he 
passed  us. 

"  God  bless  you,  Ronald  !" 

"  Left  wheel  I  "  The  band  and  the  Major  riding  behind 
it  swung  round  the  corner  into  K'orth  Bridge  Street ;  the 
rear  rank  and  the  adjutant  behind  it  passed  up  the  Lawn 
Market.  Our  driver  was  touching  up  his  horses  to  follow, 
when  Flora's  hand  stole  into  mine.  And  I  turned  from  my 
own  conflicting  thoughts  to  comfort  her. 


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